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THE 


BOSTON    BOY. 


BY 


LOUIS    HENRY. 


BOSTON: 
GRAVES    AND    ELLIS. 

1872. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871, 

By  GRAVES  AND  ELLIS, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Stereotyped  at  the  Boston  Stereotype  Foundry, 
19  Spring  Lane. 


PREFACE. 


The  maxim  that  "  Honesty  is  the  best 
pohcy,"  is  a  true  one  ;  and  yet,  if  followed  lit- 
erally, it  is  not  expressive  of  the  motive  which 
should  actuate  one  in  his  intercourse  with 
his  fellow-creatures  ;  for  there  are  multitudes 
who  are  deterred  from  the  commission  of 
crime,  not  because  of  its  wickedness,  but  be- 
cause public  opinion  makes  it  unpopular,' 
dangerous,  and  disgraceful,  if  detected. 

That  high  moral  principle,  aided  and  in- 
spired from  above,  which  teaches  that  honesty 
is  right,  and  dishonesty  is  ivron^,  is  the  only 
protection  in  the  hour  of  temptation,  and  af- 

3 


^  PREFACE. 

fords  the  only  real  consolation  under  unjust 
accusation  or  suspicion. 

In  introducing  to  the  reader  a  few  of  his 
friends,  the  Author  is  hopeful  that  the  truth 
of  the  foregoing  may  be  proven;  and  with 
these  preliminaries,  presents  his  work  to  their 
attention, 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PACK 

I.    Leaving  Home 7 

II.     Entering  Business 21 

III.  An  Accident  and  a  Mystery 35 

IV.  The  Mystery  partially  solved.    ...    48 
V.     Distress  and  Relief 62 

VI.  Heroism  and  Integrity  rewarded.  .   .    82 

VII.     First  Visit  home 97 

VIII.    A  Robbery  and  an  Arrest 113 

IX.    The  Trial 128 

X.     The  Jail 145 

XL     Off  for  China 164 

XII.     Illness  and  Recovery 17S 

XIM.    More  Crime  discovered 186 

XIV.     Another  Arrest 202 

XV.     The  Promotion 214 

XVI.  The  Voyager  returned.     .   .    ,   .   .  ^   .  228 

XVII.  Business  Fidelity  rewarded.     .   .   .'  .  243' 

XVIII.     New  Relations.. .260 

XIX.  Repentance  and  Death  of  an  Enemy.  276 

XX.     CoNcjLusioN jSS 

5 


THE  BOSTON  BOY. 


-c^'-j-^ffirO^ 


CHAPTER  I. 


LEAVING    HOME. 


EORGE  HUTCHINS  was  the  son 
of  a  widow.  She  had  been  a 
widow  many  years,  and  since  her 
husband's  death  she  had  labored  earnestly  and 
affectionately  to  promote  the  welfare  and  hap- 
piness of  him,  who  seemed  to  her  to  be  the 
last  remaining  tie  to  bind  her  to  earth,  —  her 
only  child. 

Though  she  was  by  no  means  rich,  she  was 
in  comfortable  circumstances  ;  and  no  under- 
taking was  proposed,  having  for  its  object  the 
amelioration  of  suffering  in  the  community  ; 
no   charity   destined   to   relieve   poverty ;    no 

7 


8  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

project  intended  to  improve  the  condition  of 
her  fellow-beings,  but  found  in  her  an  ardent 
supporter  and  an  indefatigable  laborer.  So 
attentive  was  she  to  every'  call  for  relief,  and 
so  prompt  in  her  response,  and  so  much  re- 
spected by  all  who  knew  her  for  her  many 
Christian  virtues,  that  she  was  known  as,  and 
called  by  her  neighbors  and  acquaintances, 
"  Mother  Hutchins." 

Henry  Clement's  parents  moved  in  a  differ- 
ent circle.  His  father  was  a  retired  merchant, , 
and  was  now  enjoying  the  respite  from  care 
which  his  long  and  successful  business  life 
warranted.  His  mother,  although  almost  idol- 
izing her  husband  and  children,  occupied  a 
position  in  society  which  her  long  residence  in 
the  city  had  so  well  prepared  her  to  fill,  —  the 
leader  of  the  fashion  in  the  town;  and  the 
gay  garments  and  costly  jewelry  of  his  sisters, 
Fanny  and  Louise,  were  the  admiration  and 

envy  of  all  the  young  ladies  of  B ,  while 

the  liberality  of  his  parents  constantly  placed 
Henry  in  possession  of  the  newest  and  most 
valuable  gifts,  v.hich  his  generous  disposition 


LEAVING   HOME.  9 

found  additional  delight  in,  as  affording  him 
means  of  contributing  to  the  enjoyment  of  his 
associates.  On  Sundays  this  family  usually 
attended  church  in  the  morning ;  but  the 
more  jealous  of  the  community  attributed  this 
to  a  love  of  display,  rather  than  a  disposition 
to  worship  God.  The  afternoon  was  generally 
spent  in  riding,  or  other  recreation. 

One  of  these  boys,  reared  amid  scenes  of 
splendor  and  fashion,  the  other  in  the  society 
and  under  the  gentle  restraint  of  a  Christian 
mother's  love  ;  one  inheriting  the  belief  that 
the  highest  aim  of  life  was  the  pursuit  of 
pleasure,  the  other,  early  in  life  dedicated  by  a 
mother's  prayers  to  God,  and  stimulated  by  her 
example,  it  is  not  singular  that  in  many  re- 
spects they  were  dissimilar,  and  yet  they  were 
firm,  fast  friends. 

They  were  neighbors  ;  had  been  school- 
mates since  early  childhood,  in  one  of  the 
pleasantest  towns  of  Western  Massachusetts, 
and  were  almost  inseparable  companions,  but 
were  now,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  about  to  be 
parted  for  the  first  time.     On  a  lovely  Sun- 


10  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

day  afternoon,  early  in  September,  i8 — ,  they 
might  have  been  seen  walking  together,  en- 
gaged in  earnest  conversation,  during  which 
the  following  dialogue  occurred  :  — 

"  Come,  George,  as  this  .is  to  be  your  last 
day  at  home  for  a  long  time,  go  with  me  and 
take  a  sail  on  the  pond  this  afternoon.  I 
shall  be  very  lonesome  when  you're  gone,  so 
let's  spend  the  rest  of  the  day  together,  and 
make  the  most  of  it." 

"  Henry,  I  am  going  away  to-morrow,  and 
should  be  happy  to  oblige  you  on  any  other 
day ;  but  it  is  Sunday,  and  I  never  did,  and 
never  will  break  the  Sabbath  while  I  live. 
You  have  known  me  long  enough  to  believe 
that  I  would  please  you  in  anything  that  is 
right,  but  my  conscience  tells  me  it  would  be 
doing  wrong  ;  still  we  need  not  be  separated, 
for  I  am  going  to  Sunday  school  and  to 
church,  and  should  like  to  have  you  go  with 
me.  Will  you?"  Seeing  that  he  hesitated, 
George  continued,  — 

"  Yes,  Henry,  please  me  on  this  my  last 
day  at  home  by  going  to  church  with  me  ; 


LEAVING   HOME.  II 

it  will  be  a  long  time  before  we  see  each  other 
again." 

"  Well,  George,  to  please  you,  I  will." 
Mrs.  Hutchins  had  a  brother  living  near 
Boston,  a  Mr.  Wood,  and  through  his  influ- 
ence a  situation  had  been  procured  for  George 
in  a  mercantile  house  in  P Street,  in  that- 
city  ;-  and  the  day  following  the  conversation 
he  was,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  to  leave 
home  and  its  attractions,  his  dear  mother  and 
her  loving  protection,  and  commence  life  in 
the  busy  metropolis,  —  a  situation  of  peril  to 
all,  of  destruction  to  many.  But,  unlike 
many,  he  had  a  devoted  mother's  prayers  to 
support  him,  and  all  her  kind  admonitions 
to  warn  him.  In  addition,  he  had  received 
faithful  instructions  in  the  Sabbath  school, 
and  from  the  pulpit ;  and  it  was  to  God's 
house  he  preferred  to  go,  rather  than  to  pass 
the  afternoon  in  the  amusement  suggested  by 
his  companion.  Did  those  prayers  and  in- 
structions prove  of  any  advantage  to  him  ? 
We  shall  see. 


12  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

The  service  over,  they  slowly  returned  to- 
wards home.  The  hour  was  rapidly  approach- 
ing which  would  separate  the  companions  for 
months,  perhaps  forever  ;  and  up  to  this  time 
no  conversation,  except  of  a  secular  character, 
had  ever  been  entertained  between  them.  For 
some  distance  they  journeyed  on,  each  ap- 
parently lost  in  his  own  reflections,  when  the 
silence  was  broken  by  George,  who,  address- 
ing his  companion,  said,  "  Henry,  I  do  not  feel 
that  I  can  go  away  and  leave  you,  without 
saying 'something  that  has  been  in  my  heart 
for  a  long  time  —  a  duty  which  I  have  shrunk 
from  until  this  hour ;  but  as  I  may  never  have 
another  opportunity,  I  have  been  praying  God 
to  give  me  strength  to  speak,  and  you  will- 
ingness to  hear,  and  that  his  blessing  may 
attend  whatever  of  good  my  feeble  lips  may 
utter.  Henry,  I  think  I  am  a  Christian  ;  I 
have  not  yet  made  a  public  profession  of  re- 
ligion, but  I  have  an  inward  peace  which 
'p9,sseth  all  understanding,'  and  I  received 
it  in  answer  to  prayer.  I  have  often  prayed 
for  you  that  you  might  enjoy  this   heavenly 


LEAVING    HOME.  1 3 

peace,  and  often  intended  to  speak  to  you  on 
this  subject ;  but  fear  of  your  ridicule  and  that 
of  others  has  prevented  me  till  now,  when 
the  memory  of  so  many  misspent  privileges 
crowds  upon  me,  and  in  view  of  a  possibility 
that  this  might  be  my  last  opportunity,  I 
could  not  keep  silent,  Henry,  I  do  want  to 
see  you  a  Christian  ;  not  altogether  such  a 
one  as  I  am,  but  a  true  follower  of  Jesus. 
Your  happiness  in  this  world,  will  be  increased 
while  you  have  the  assurance  of  an  eternity 
to  be  spent  in  praising  God  for  his  grace, 
which  is  sufficient  to  cleanse  from  all  sin. 
Now,  will  you  not  promise  me  that  you  will 
give  your  heart  to  God  .-'  " 

The  sensitive  nature  of  Henry  gave  way 
under  these  gentle  words  from  George's  lips, 
his  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  his  quivering 
lip  could  only  reply,  "  George,  I  will  try." 
The  two  boys  then  separated,  each  to  his  own 
residence. 

On  reaching  home,  and  after  partaking  of 
their  evening  meal,  Mrs.  Hutchins  and  her 
son  engaged  in  such  conversation   as  would 


14  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

be  natural  in  a  Christian  household  under 
such  circumstances.  His  past  life  having 
been  spent  entirely  under  her  observation, 
and  having  been  uniformly  satisfactory  to 
her,  it  was  not  without  many  misgivings  that 
she  had  consented  to  his  departure  for  the 
metropolis,  where  new  and  untried  scenes 
awaited  him,  and  temptations  and  danger 
would  assail  and  threaten  on  every  hand. 
How  earnestly  did  she  pray,  that  God,  who 
had  so  mercifully  shielded  him  at  home,  would 
protect  him  abroad!  and  after  a  long  and 
fer\'ent  appeal  to  Heaven  for  a  blessing  on  her 
darling,  they  separated  for  the  night. 

The  morning  sun  rose  brightly,  and  the 
mother  and  son  sat  down  to  their  last  meal 
together  for  months,  -and  it  require^  all  the 
fortitude  at  her  command  to  enable  Mrs. 
Hutchins  to  retain  the  composure  she  had 
schooled  herself  to  exhibit  on  this  occasion, 
and  the  failure  to  preserve  which  would  only 
be  the  key-note  to  a  scene  of  distress  at  the 
approaching  separation  which  she  would  fain 
spare  George,  even  at  the  risk  of  breaking  her 


LEAVING    HOME.  1 5 

own  heart.  Breakfast  over,  the  hour  had  now 
come  for  the  parting.  The  stage  was  halting 
at  the  village  post  office,  in  sight,  and  would 
soon  call  for  the  young  traveller.  Clasped  in 
his  mother's  arms,  George,  after  returning  her 
embrace,  promised  to  so  conduct  himself  as 
to  merit  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  his 
employers,  and  above  all,  to  do  his  duty  to- 
wards God  and  those  in  whose  society  he 
might  be  placed.  "  Good  by,  dear  mother," 
and  "  God  bless  you,  my  son,"  had  been  said, 
the  whip  cracked,  the  wheels  rolled  rapidly, 
and  soon  miles  separated  the  affectionate  pair. 
George  fortunately  found  himself  compar- 
atively alone,  there  being  but  one  other  pas- 
senger inside  ;  and  he  not  appearing  disposed 
to  be  very  communicative,  George  had  full 
liberty  to  commune  with  his  own  thoughts  ; 
and  sad  as  they  were,  he  felt  that  he  could 
not  be  interrupted.  So,  silently  he  was  rap- 
pidly  driven  to  the  railroad  station,  whence 
he  took  the  cars  to  Boston,  reaching  there 
early  in  the  afternoon.  He  left  his  trunk  at 
the  depot  in  charge   of  the   baggage-master, 


1 6  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

and,  greeting  his  uncle  who  was  waiting  for 
him,  in  company  they  were  soon  on  their  way 
to  meet  his  new  employers,  Messrs.  Wilder  & 
Clark.  This  firm  was  engaged  in  quite  an 
extensive  business,  having  a  branch  house  in 
New  York  ;  the  senior  partner  controlling  the 
Boston  establishment,  while  the  junior  super- 
intended the  business  at  New  York.  George 
had  never  seen  either  of  these  gentlemen  ;  but 
the  excellent  recommendation  he  had  received 
of  him  from  Mr.  Wood  so  thoroughly  sat- 
isfied Mr.  Wilder,  that  he  was  prepared  to 
give  the  young  man  a  cordial  reception  ;  and 
granting  him  the  balance  of  the  day  to  settle 
in  his  new  boarding-place,  he  was  directed  to 
report  on  the  following  morning,  at  half  past 
seven.  Mr.  Wood  resided  a  few  miles  from 
Boston,  —  a  distance  too  great  to  admit  of  a 
home  for  George,  —  so  a  boarding-house  had 
been  selected  as  near  the  store  as  possible ; 
and  having  introduced  him  there,  and  seen 
him  located,  his  uncle  left  for  home. 

Mrs.  Rice,  the  lady  with  whom  George  is 
now  settled,  is  a  widow,  having  five  children  ; 


LEAVING    HOME.  1 7 

Joseph,  of  about  George's  age,  and  the  rest 
much  younger.  There  were  at  her  house 
eight  boarders,  nearly  all  senior  to  our  young 
friend,  and  all  engaged  as  clerks  in  various 
mercantile  establishments  "  down  town." 

After  tea,  a  general  introduction  took  place  ; 
soon  after  which  most  of  the  young  men  went 
out  for  pleasure  or  business,  and  George  was 
left  in  the  society  of  a  young  man,  a  very  little 
older  than  himself,  apparently,  to  whom  he 
had  been  introduced  as  his  room-mate,  and 
named  Robert  Ashley.     Robert  was  employed 

in  a  dry  goods  establishment  in  C Street, 

and  had  boarded  with  Mrs.  Rice  for  several 
months.  It  does  not  usually  require  much 
•time  for  young  persons  of  their  ages  to  be- 
come acquainted,  and  these  boys  were  no 
exception  to  the  general  rule ;  and  before 
bed-time  came,  they  were  conversing  with  as 
much  freedom  as  if  their  intimacy  had  been 
of  years'  duration,  instead  of  a  few  hours.  But 
boys  are  also  students  of  human  nature ;  and 
George  was  not  long  in  detecting,  in  the  flip- 
pant way  in  which  his  companion  alluded  to 


1 8  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

sacred  things,  that  this  was  not  the  sort  of 
room-mate   his   mother  would   have   selected. 
But  he  could  not  help  it ;  such  was  his  lot ; 
and  his  hope  now  was  that  he  might  be  of 
service  to  the  young  man.     Here  was  mission- 
ary work  for  him  at  the  outset.     At  last  bed- 
time came,  and  the  two  ascended  the  stairs 
together.     Robert  hastily  commenced  to  re- 
move  his   clothing,  while  George  drew  from 
his  trunk  his  Bible,  a  gift  from  his  mother, 
and  to  the  astonishment  of  the  former,  began 
to  read  to  himself     He  read  but  a  short  chap- 
ter, amid   the  jeers   of  his   room-mate,  then 
rose,  and,  turning  to  Robert,  said,  "  I  always 
pray  before  going  to  bed  ;  won't  you  kneel 
down  with  me  ? "  but  he  received  no  distinct 
reply  —  a  sneer  was   all ;  and   George  knelt 
alone,  asking  forgiveness  for  the  sins  of  the 
past  day,  and  placing  himself  and  companions 
under   God's   protecting   care  for   the    night. 
On   rising  from  his   knees,  Robert  took  oc- 
casion to  say  to  him,  "  When  you've  been  in 
Boston  as  long  as  I  have,  I  guess  you'll  give 
up   praying,  to   the   parsons."     George   knew 


LEAVING    HOME.  1 9 

now  the  character  of  his  companion,  and  his 
duty  was  plain,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to 
do  it ;  how  well,  we  shall  see  in  time. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  this  was  no 
cross  to  George,  nor  that  he  was  not  tempted 
to  -omit  it  "  for  this  once,"  —  a  way  in  which 
temptation  frequently  comes.  But  George 
had  promised  his  mother  and  his  mother's 
God  to  undertake  every  duty,  and  to  look  to 
Heaven  for  assistance  to  perform  it ;  and  it 
was  fortunate  for  him  that  he  did  not  neglect 
it  this  first  night,  for  later  in  their  acquaint- 
ance he  would  have  found  it  more  difficult 
to  comply.  Nor  must  it  be  considered  that 
Robert  looked  upon  this  innovation  as  some- 
thing he  was  willing  to  tolerate  ;  but  their  in- 
tercourse had  been  of  so  short  duration,  that 
he  made  no  special  demonstration  of  the  bit- 
ter thoughts  he  entertained.  George  little 
knows  the  annoyances  and  temptations  to 
which  he  will  be  subjected. 

His  repose  that  night  was  not  as  sweet  as 
in  his  own  little  room  at  home ;  and  it  was 
long   after  he   had   retired  before  nature  as- 


20  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

serted  her  sway,  his  thoughts  were  so  full 
of  the  new  scenes  before  him,  of  the  trying 
ordeal  through  which  he  had  just  passed,  and 
which  he  had  reason  to  suppose  would  come 
again  with  increased  power ;  but  the  conscious- 
ness of  duty  performed  finally  conquered,  and 
when  he  awoke,  it  was  to  find  the  sun  shining 
brightly,  and  his  companion  gone.  He  arose 
and  dressed  quickly,  knelt  for  a  blessing  for 
the  day,  joined  the  circle  in  the  breakfast- 
room,  and  hastened  to  his  store,  reaching  there 
at  seven  a'clock,  —  a  half  hour  earlier  than 
he  was  ordered  to  be  present,  and  almost  as 
soon  as  the  porter,  who  was  engaged  in  sweep- 
ing and  dusting  the  counting-room. 


CHAPTER   II, 


ENTERING    BUSINESS. 


T  half  past  seven,  Mr.  Charles  But- 
ler, the  book-keeper,  entered,  and 
taking  out  the  books,  commenced  a 
conversation  by  asking  George  his  name*  and 
age,  whether  he  had  ever  been  in  a  store  be- 
fore, if  he  understood  book-keeping,  &c. ;  then, 
lianding  him  a  pile  of  bills  and  a  paper-cutter, 
and  assigning  him  a  position  near  him  at  the 
desk,  directed  him  to  file  them  neatly  and 
squarely.  George  had  enjoyed  the  advantages 
of  a  good  common  school  education,  and  his 
penmanship  was  unusually  good  for  one  of  his 
age ;  and  when  the  duty  was  accomplished, 
the  legibility  of  the  writing,  and  general 
neatness,  elicited  praise  from  Mr.  Wilder,  who 
happened  to  be  present ;  and  even  Mr.  Butler, 
extra  particular  as  he  was,  could  find  no  op- 

21 


22  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

portunity  to    express    himself    in   his    usual 
'fault-finding  style. 

Later  in  the  day,  Mr.  Wilder  called  George 
aside,  and  in  a  few  remarks,  said  to  him,  "  I 
have  been  obliged  to  discharge  from  my  em- 
ploy a  young  man,  who  had  been  with  us 
more  than  a  year,  and  in  whom  I  have  placed 
the  utmost  confidence.  I  sent  him,  as  I  pro- 
pose to  send  you,  daily  to  the  bank,  and 
found  no  cause  for  suspicion,  until,  some  weeks 
ago,  •  when  rumors  of  extravagance  in  his 
habits,  and  frequent  visits  to  the  theatre,  and 
other  places  which  I  knew  his  salary  could 
not  afford,  reached  me,  and  I  was  led  to  keep 
a  watchful  eye  over  him.  My  plans  to  detect 
him  it  is  unnecessary  to  expose  ;  suffice  it  to 
say,  the  terrible  conviction  that  I  was  be- 
ing robbed  forced  itself  upon  me,  with  the 
certainty  that  he  had  been  pursuing  a  wrong 
course  for  months.  I  had  had  the -most  un- 
limited belief  in  his  integrity,  and  felt  if  I 
could  not  trust  him,  whom  could  I  trust }  I 
determined  to  make  a  public  example  of  him  ; 
but  his  mother's  tears,  and  the  almost  certainty 


ENTERING   BUSINESS.  23 

that  exposure  would  be  his  ruin  for  Hfe,  in- 
duced me  to  alter  my  decision  ;  and  after  his 
confession  and  a  partial  restoration,  I  gave 
him  his  discharge,  with  much  good  advice, 
and  firmly  resolved  to  dispense  with  the 
services  of  any  one  in  his  place ;  but  as  the 
fall  trade  is  approaching,  finding  that  I  must 
have  more  assistance,  I  accidentally  alluded  to 
it  in  the  presence  of  your  uncle,  and  you  were 
mentioned  tome;  so  on  his  recommendation 
I  am  going  to  try  you.  I  have  heard  a  good 
report  of  you ;  that  you  are  a  smart,  willing, 
faithful  lad,  and  what  to  me  is  of  more  con- 
sequence, that  you  are  a  Christian.  I  shall 
trust  you ;  and  I  am  satisfied  you  will  not 
disappoint  me.  You  will  find  a  vacancy  in 
my  pew  at  church,  and  I  shall  be  happy 
to  see  you  there  and  at  the  Sabbath  school. 
Your  pay  will  be  four  hundred  dollars  the 
first  year,  and  if  you  exert  yourself,  as  I  am 
confident  you  are  capable  of  doing,  I  am 
satisfied  you  will  in  time  render  your  ser- 
vices more  valuable  to  me." 

George,  who  had  listened  respectfully  to  the 


24  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

remarks  of  his  employer,  replied  that  he  was 
determined,  with  divine  assistance,  to  conduct 
himself  in  such  a  way  as  to  merit  his  patron's 
esteem ;  he  said  that  he  trusted  his  sins  had 
been  forgiven,  and  promised  to  devote   him- 
self diligently  to  business  :   at  the  same-  time 
he  gratefully  accepted  the  invitation,  so  gen- 
erously tendered  him,    to  attend    services   at 
the  church  and  Sabbath  school. 
•     As  time  advanced,  and    the  restraint  with 
which   a    first    acquaintance    is   always    sur- 
rounded passed  off,  Robert  Ashley  made    his 
appearance  in  his  true  character,  and  George 
was   soon    satisfied    that    his    company  was 
neither  congenial  nor  productive  of  good  to 
him  ;  and  all  his  efforts  to  win  his  room-  mate's 
confidence,  and  furnish  him  with  a  good  ex- 
cuse   for   interposing   a   word   of  caution   or 
counsel,  proved  unavailing.     Nearly  all   Rob- 
ert's  evenings   were    spent    away    from    his 
boarding-house,  and  principally  at  the  theatre, 
to  which  he  frec^uently  invited  George;    and 
once  he  came  up  to   bed  in  a  condition  of 
unmistakable    inebriation.      His    companions 


ENTERING   BUSINESS.  2$ 

were  principally  the  lower  classes  of  actors 
or  theatre  frequenters,  and  his  conversation, 
now  frequently  interlarded  with  oaths,  had 
constant  reference  to  the  scenes  he  had 
witnessed,  and  the  persons  participating. 
To  his  invitations  to  visit  the  play-house, 
George  had  always  returned  an  emphatic 
negative,  and  at  first  mildly  endeavored  to, 
dissuade  him  from  his  course,  and  as  a  means 
of  amusement,  solicited  his  company  to  the 
library  room  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association,  of  which  George  had  just  become 
a  member ;  and  he  did  accept  his  invitation 
once,  but  finding  its  influences  too  restraining, 
he  left  at  an  early  hour,  to  seek  pleasure 
where  he  had  previously  met  kindred  spirits. 
Finding  entreaty  of  no  avail,  and  Robert's 
habits  daily  growing  worse,  George  could 
endure  it  no  longer,  and  requested  Mrs,  Rice 
to  provide  him  with  another  room,  where  he 
could  have  a  more  quiet  and  agreeable  com- 
panion. Her  domestic  arrangements,  however, 
were  of  such  a  nature  as  to  render  it  im- 
possible to  make  a  change  at  present,  unless 


26  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

r 

he  should  choose  to  occupy  a  single  room, 
which  his  limited  salary  woukl  not  warrant ; 
but  she  promised  him  that,  as  soon  as  she 
could,  she  would  oblige  him. 

He  had,  from  his  first  Sabbath  in  the  city, 
taken  his  seat  regularly  in  Mr.  Wilder's  pew, 
and  became  a  fnember  of  a  Bible  class.  His 
attention  to  his  religious  duties  soon  became 
a  subject  of  observation  and  remark  in  the 
church  and  Sabbath  school,  although  he 
was  very  unobtrusive  in  his  piety  and  modest 
in  his  general  deportment ;  and  his  employer, 
Mr.  Wilder,  observed  with  delight  the  readi- 
ness with  which  he  transacted  the  business 
assigned  him,  while  his  example  for  modesty, 
devotion  to  duty,  and  habitual  good  temper 
were  so  great  an  improvement  on  boys  they 
had  previously  employed,  and  so  marked  in 
comparison  with  his  immediate  predecessor, 
that  he  very  soon  became  a  favorite  with 
all  but  Mr.  Butler,  the  book-keeper,  who  from 
the  first  had  permitted  no  opportunity  to  pass 
without  exhibiting  his  hatred  ;  a  feehng  which 
was  aggravated  day  by  day,  as  he  noticed  the 


ENTERING  BUSINESS.  2/ 

attachment  felt  towards  him  by  all  the  rest, 
grow  steadily  stronger.  Still,  he  could  not 
charge  him  with  a  single  act  of  neglect,  or 
the  violation  of  the  least  important  rule  of 
the  establishment ;  and  George,  conscious  of 
the  feeling  of  dislike  entertained  towards  him, 
and  which  the  book-keepei"  took  no  pains  to 
conceal,  only  labored  the  more  assiduously  to 
make  himself  useful,  and  exerted  himself  to 
perform  little  acts  of  kindness,  in  the  hope 
of  conciliating  good  feeling.  To  give  George's 
impressions  of  his  position,  both  at  home  and 
at  the  store,  it  may  be  well  to  introduce  a 
short  letter  he  wrote  to  his  mother  after  he 
had  been  in  the  store  a  few  weeks. 

"Boston,  October  29,  18 — . 
"  My  dear  Mother  :  I  received  your  kind 
letter,  and  hasten  to  reply.  You  seem  to 
think  that  I  have  too  little  to  say  about  my 
business  affairs  and  boarding-house  compan- 
ions. If  I  have  been  silent  on  this  subject, 
it  is  not  for  want  of  any  interest  in  either ; 
but  that   you   may  not   think   my  silence   is 


28  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

caused  by  a  desire  to  keep  anything  from 
ymi,  I  will  give  you  a  full  account  of  every- 
thing on  the  subject  that  you  should  know, 
or  that  I  think  may  interest  you,  begging  you 
never  to  think  for  a  moment  that  I  would 
have  a  secret  from  her  I  love  best  on  earth. 
First,  then,  I  am  still  boarding  with  Mrs.  Rice, 
and  still  have  Robert  Ashley  for  a  room-mate. 
I  fear  he  is  a  bad  boy ;  my  heart  is  often 
pained  by  his  profanity  and  light  remarks  on 
religious  subjects.  I  have  talked  to  him,  and 
he  receives  all  I  say  with  a  sneer  or  open 
ridicule ;  all  I  can  do  now,  is  to  pray  for 
him,  and  that  I  do  daily:  O,  how  I  should 
rejoice  if  I  could  see  him  a  Christian  !  So 
open  is  he  in  his  opposition  to  religion  in 
general,  and  to  my  efforts  to  be  consistent 
in,  particular,  that  after  bearing  it  as  long 
as  I  could,  I  was  obliged  to  request  Mrs. 
Rice  for  a  change  of  room  ;  but  her  house 
is  so  full,  that  she  cannot  make  a  change  at 
present.  I  shall  not  relax  my  efforts  for  his 
good,   but   it   does   seem   as   if   it   would   be 


ENTERING    BUSINESS.  29 

almost  a  miracle  if  he  should  become  a  pray- 
ing young  man. 

"  My  relations  at  the  store  are  of  the  pleas- 
antest  nature,  with  one  exception  ;  although 
I  try  to  do  my  best,  I  cannot  please  Mr.  But- 
ler, the  book-keeper.  Mr.  Wilder,  and  all  the 
rest,  are  agreeable,  and  by  their  manner  I  can 
see  that  I  "give  them  satisfaction  ;  but  let  me 
do  what  I  will,  I  have  to  this  moment  failed 
to  hear  one  kind  word  from  Mr.  Butler,  and 
he  finds  fault  with  my  best  endeavors.  Why, 
I  cannot  tell ;  but  from  the  first,  he  seemed 
to  take,  a  dislike  to  me.  I  shall  continue  to 
do  right,  but  it  is  hard  to  work  when  people 
seem  determined  to  be  displeased  with  every- 
thing. Uncle  has  been  in  to  see  me  several 
times,  but  I  have  never  mentioned  this  to  him 
or  anybody  else  ;  nor  should  I  trouble  yoit 
now,  but  for  my  determination  to  keep  noth- 
ing from  my  dear  mother. 

"  Now,  mother,  I  have  something  to  say  to 
you,  and  a  favor  to  ask.  One  of  our  boarders 
attends  a  Business  College,  and  tells  me  he 
has  not  only  improved  his  handwriting,  but 


30  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

is  learning  book-keeping,  in  which  he  is  very 
much  interested.  I  should  like  to  go,  but  it 
is  expensive,  and  I  do  not  feel  as  if  I  could 
afford  it  on  my  present  pay.  I  send  you  a 
circular  stating  terms.  Now,  if  you  approve 
of  my  plan,  and  are  willing  to  allow  me 
enough  to  pay  one  half  my  tuition,  I  can  make 
out  the  balance.  I  would  not  ask  you  to  do 
this  if  it  were  for  amusement  alone  ;  but  I 
think  I  shall  improve  sufficiently  to  make  my- 
self more  valuable  at  the  store,  and  perhaps 
by  and  by  my  salary  will  be  increased.  Hop- 
ing you  will  think  favorably  of  my  plan,  and 
with  much  love, 

"  I  am  your  affectionate  son, 

"  George." 

Not  many  days  after  the  receipt  of  this  let- 
ter his  mother  replied  to  him,  offering  him 
what  advice,  sympathy,  and  encouragement 
she  conceived  the  necessities  of  the  case  de- 
manded. But  after  all,  she  was  glad  to  know 
his  trials  were  of  so  trifling  a  character ;  for 
in  her  anxiety  for  his  welfare,  and  suspicions 


ENTERING   BUSINESS.  3I 

that  something  was  wrong,  her  imagination 
had  pictured  a  thousand  troubles,  all  of  a  much 
more  serious  nature  than  the  facts  had  war- 
ranted. She  concluded  her  letter  by  heartily 
indorsing  his  proposition  to  attend  the  school, 
and  enclosed  him  a  sum  sufficiently  large  to 
meet  the  expenses,  and  he  lost  no  time  in 
securing  admission  to  the  college,  where  he 
was  to  be  found  every  evening  that  there  was 
no  religious  meeting  to  attend. 

Our  young  friend  had  been  about  three 
months  in  the  store,  when  an  opportunity 
presented  itself,  to  Mr.  Butler's  delight,  for 
that  gentleman  to  open  his  heart  in  a  manner 
never  heretofore  presented.  The  bank  ac- 
count had  been  made  up,  and  at  12  M.  (the 
usual  hour  for  the  transaction  of  that  business) 
George  was  despatched  to  make  the  regular 
deposit,  to  draw  a  check  for  one  thousand  dol- 
lars for  payment  of  small  bills  at  the  store, 
and  to  leave  an  order  at  an  Express  office 
in  Court  Square,  receiving  the  stereotype 
direction  from  Mr.  Butler,  "  Don't  be  gone  all 
day,"  —  a  charge  as  regularly  imposed  as  neces- 


32  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

sity  for  his  absence  was  demanded.  On  this 
occasion  George  proceeded  "rapidly,  as  usual, 
and  after  attending  to  his  bank  business,  saw 
the  receiving  teller  record  the  amount  of  the 
deposit  on  his  book ;  he  then  went  to  the 
paying  teller,  received  his  thousand  dollars  in 
small  bills,  and  putting  them  into  a  pocket-book, 
carried  for  the  purpose,  placed  the  book  in 
his  pocket,  and  hurried  up  State  Street,  to- 
wards the  Express  office.  As  he  was  about 
to  cross  Court  Street,  a  large  number  of 
persons  were  waiting  for  teams  to  pass,  in 
order  to  afford  them  an  opportunity  to  gain 
the  opposite  side,  when,  just  as  a  heavy 
omnibus,  filled  with  passengers,  was  passing, 
a  young  girl,  in  attempting  to  run  across  the 
street,  was  knocked  down  by  one  of  the 
horses.  George,  reckless  of  the  danger,  sprang 
to  her  relief,  and  succeeded  in  drawing  her 
from  under  the  horses'  feet  as  the  wheel  was 
about  to  crush  her,  while  a  bystander  caught 
her  and  conveyed  her  to  a  place  of  safety. 
But  the  heroic  act  caused  George  a  serious 
misfortune,  for  a  part  of  the  harness  caught 


ENTERING    BUSINESS.  33 

his  clothing ;  he  was  thrown  down,  striking 
heavily  on  his  head  and  right  arm,  and  barely 
escaping  with  his  life,  for  the  horses  were 
checked  just  soon  enough  to  prevent  the 
wheel  passing  over  his  body.  The  accident, 
and  the  noble  act  which  led  to  it,  had  been 
seen  by  several.  George  was  taken  to  an 
apothecary  store  near  by,  by  friendly  assist- 
ance, and  a  physician  called.  He  found  no 
bones  broken,  although  the  patient  was  se- 
verely bruised.  As  soon  as  he  recovered  his 
consciousness  sufficiently  to  give  his  name  and 
residence,  he  was  at  once  carried  home  in  a 
carriage,  accompanied  by  a  police  officer  and 
the  physician.  He  was  taken  to  his  room, 
and  a  more  thorough  examination  of  his  in- 
juries made,  resulting  in  the  doctor's  express- 
ing the  belief  that  George  would  be  able  to 
be  out  in  a  very  few  days. 

After  the  departure  of  the  physician, 
George's  pain  being  somewhat  relieved,  he 
remembered  the  errand  on  which  he  had  been 
sent,  and  particularly  that  he  still  had  pos- 
session of  the  bank  book  and  pocket-book 
3 


34  THE    BOSTON    BOV. 

containing  the  money.  So,  looking  around 
the  room,  which  was  full  of  sympathizing 
friends,  —  for  it  was  about  the  regular  dinner 
hour,  and  all  the  boarders  had  been  in  to 
condole  with  him, — he  remarked  that  he  wished 
he  could  send  down  word  by  some  one  to  his 
employer  that  it  was  an  accident  that  pre- 
vented his  returning  promptly,  and  also  that 
the  money  was  safe  in  his  possession,  and 
desiring  that  some  one  might  be  sent  from 
the  store  to  receive  the  funds,  not  wishing  to 
risk  them  out  of  his  hands  until  they  were 
safely  restored  to  the  owner.  Robert,  who 
was  standing  by  his  bedside,  volunteered  to  do 
the  errand,  and  having  eaten  his  dinner,  start- 
ed for  his  own  store,  promising  to  call  in  at 
George's  employers'  on  his  way,  relate  the  cir- 
cumstances, and  return  the  bank  book.  "  You 
won't  forget  it,  will  you,  Robert .?  for  it  is  very 
important,"  said  George,  dreading  even  under 
this  affliction  the  anger  of  Mr.  Butler.  "  No  ! 
I'll  attend  to  it  right  off,"  said  Robert,  and  at 
once  left  the  house. 


CHAPTER    III. 


AN   ACCIDENT   AND    A    MYSTERY. 


SHORT  time  after  George  had  start- 
ed from  the  store  to  transact  the 
business  intrusted  to  him,  Mr. 
Wilder,  having  an  important  communication 
to  send  away,  inquired  of  Mr.  Butler  where 
George  was.  He  replied,  "  I  sent  him  to  the 
bank  and  express  office,  but  he's  been  gone 
long  enough  to  go  there  twice.  I  do  think 
he's  the  laziest  boy  I  ever  saw," 

"  I  have  never  discovered  laziness  to  be  one 
of  his  attributes,"  said  Mr.  Wilder.  "  He  has 
always  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  remarkably 
sprightly  boy  ;  but  this  is  not  the  first  time  I 
have  heard  you  find  fault  with  him.  Have 
you  any  other  cause  for  complaint  ?  for  if  that 

35 


36  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

is  his  only  failing,  we  have  great  reason  for 
joy,  as  from  what  I  have  seen  of  hira,  I  am 
sure  he  will  correct  it.  He  is  evidently  en- 
deavoring to  give  satisfaction,  and  I  would  sug- 
gest that  you  give  him  a  gentle  hint  to  be  more 
expeditious  when  sent  away  from  the  store." 

"I  have  spoken  to  him  of  this  matter  re- 
peatedly, Mr.  Wilder,  but  it  does  not  seem 
to  have  any  effect ;  and  now  we  are  speaking 
of  it,  I  feel  that  it  is  my  duty  to  say  that  I 
do  not  altogether  admire  the  boy's  appear- 
ance. I  think  he  is  two-faced,  and  if  not  a 
rogue  at  heart,  I  am  very  much  mistaken." 

"  Two-faced  ?  roguish  ?  What  do  you  mean  ? 
You  surprise  me,  Mr.  Butler.  I  do  not  re- 
member having  ever  met  a  boy  who  bore  on 
his  countenance  marks  of  more  ingenuousness. 
I  have  been  very  watchful  over  him,  and  deep- 
ly interested  in  his  success,  and  it  will  be  a 
terrible  blow  to  me  if  compelled  to  believe  in 
his  duplicity.  What  evidence  do  you  think 
you  possess  of  his  artfulness  ?  " 

"  None,  positively  ;  but  my  general  impres- 
sion of  him  has  been  bad  from  the  first  time 


AN    ACCIDENT    AND    A    MYSTERY.  3/ 

I  saw  him,  and  soon  my  suspicions  were 
aroused  ;  and  I  also  have  been  watching  him 
for  some  time,  out  of  the  store  as  well  as  in. 
I  have  hesitated  to  allude  to  it  before,  know- 
ing him  to  be  so  great  a  favorite  with  you, 
but  my  sense  of  duty  could  forbear  no  longer. 
I  have  frequently  met  him  in  the  street  as 
late  as  half  past  ten  at  night,  and  it  seems  to 
me  that  a  boy  of  his  age  should  be  at  home 
at  that  hour." 

"  There  may  be  an  excellent  reason  for  his 
being  in  the  street,  for  the  sexton  of  our 
church  is  not  more  constant  in  his  attend- 
ance on  evening  meetings  than  George  has 
been  ever  since  he  came  to  the  city." 

"  What  evenings  do  you  hold  your  meet- 
ings, sir  ? " 

"  Tuesday  and  Friday." 

"Well,  sir,  it  happens  that  I  am  in  the 
habit  of  calling  on  a  particular  friend  regu- 
larly on  Monday  and  Thursday  evenings,  and 
it  has  been  on  those  particular  nights  that  I 
have  seen  George  as  I  was  returning  home. 
Once  when  I  spoke  to  him  about  being  gone 


38  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

too  long  on  an  errand,  he  told  me  that  he 
was  a  stranger  in  the  city,  and  not  knowing 
the  shortest  distance  to  places,  it  took  him 
longer.  Perhaps  he  goes  out  nights  to  learn 
these  short  cuts,"  ironically  added  Mr.  Butler. 
Seeing  Mr.  Wilder  still  look  incredulous,  he 
added,  "  I  shall,  with  your  consent,  take  thor- 
ough steps  to  ascertain  the  truth  or  falsity  of  my 
impressions,  and  think  ere  long  you  even  will 
acknowledge  that  I  can  read  character  cor- 
rectly." 

"  I  shall  certainly  consent  to  any  proper 
steps  being  taken  to  advance  my  interests, 
even  at  the  expense  of  my  proving  a  dupe 
in  this  matter,"  replied  Mr.  Wilder.  "  But  I 
shall  continue  to  cherish  the  hope  that  you  are 
mistaken.  I  feel  obliged  to  you  for  your  in- 
terest in  my  business,  and  assure  you  I  shall 
not  prize  your  devotion  less  if  your  fears 
prove  to  be  groundless ;  but  it  is  indeed 
strange  that  he  is  so  long  away.  You  will 
please  detain  him  on  his  return,  as  I  wish  to 
send  him  away  before  he  goes  to  dinner." 

Mr.  Wilder   had   hardly   seated   himself  in 


AN    ACCIDENT    AND    A    MYSTERY.  39 

his  private  office,  when  Mr.  Thomas,  a  prom- 
inent member  of  the  church  with  which  Mr. 
Wilder  was  connected,  and  who  was  the 
teacher  of  the  Bible  class  to  which  George 
belonged,  dropped  in,  and  inquired  for  the 
latter.  Finding  he  was  expected  every  mo- 
ment, Mr.  Thomas  joined  Mr.  Wilder  in  his 
room  to  wait  for  the  young  man. 

Time  passed  on,  and  it  was  almost  two 
o'clock,  and  George  had  not  returned.  Where 
can  he  be }  Even  Mr.  Wilder  began  to  be 
alarmed,  while  Mr.  Butler's  countenance  told 
the  lie  to  his  words  when  he  remarked,  "  I'm 
afraid  something  has  happened  to  him."  Mr. 
Thomas  having  exhausted  all  the  time  at  his 
disposal,  started  to  go,  when  Mr.  Wilder  asked 
him  if  he  would  like  to  leave  a  message  for 
George,  as  he  must  have  stopped  to  go  to 
dinner  before  returning  to  the  store,  In  this 
way  he  tried  to  account  for  the  mysterious 
absence,  though  really  it  afforded  but  little 
consolation  to  his  anxiety. 

"  No,  Mr.  Wilder,  I  will  leave  no  message  ; 
but  as  we  are  both  deeply  interested  in  the 


40  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

lad,  I  will  tell  you  my  business  with  him.     I 
have  seen  George  several  times  lately  in  com- 
pany with  a  young  man  by  the  name  of  Rob- 
ert Ashley, — as  I  have  ascertained, — who  does 
not  bear  a  good  reputation,  and  I  desired  to 
see  him,  to  remonstrate  kindly,  for  he  cannot 
know  the   true   character   of  the   boy  or   he 
would  not  associate  with  him.     I  have  high 
hopes  of  George,  and  shall  feel  very  sad  to  be 
obliged  to  think  he  knowingly  places  himself 
under  such  influences.     As  you  will  probably 
see  him  before  I  do,  on  the  whole  I  will  trouble 
you  to  convey  the  message,  for  his  welfare  is 
as  near  your  heart  as  my  own."     Mr.  Wilder 
promised,  and  the  friends  separated. 

Restless,  nervous,  and  considerably  excited, 
Mr.  Wilder  paced  the  floor,  anxiously  await- 
ing the  return  of  Mr.  Butler,  whom  he  had 
previously  sent  to  the  bank  to  inquire  if 
George  had  been  heard  from.  He  came  in 
at  last,  reporting  that  he  had  heard  from  him  ; 
that  he  had  made  the  deposit  at  the  bank  at 
about  twelve ;  it  had  been  entered  on  the  book 
and  returned  to  him  ;  that  he  had  drawn  the 


AN   ACCIDENT   AND   A    MYSTERY.  4 1 

thousand  dollars  in  small  bills,  and  left  the 
bank ;  but  here  he  lost  all  trace  of  him,  for 
on  going  to  the  express  office  to  see  if  that 
business  had  been  attended  to,  he  found  that 
no  person  had  been  there  to  represent  them 
that  day,  no  order  had  been  left.  "  What  can 
be  the  matter.''"  inquired  Mr.  Wilder,  more 
in  a  soliloquizing  way  than  with  any  hope  of 
an  answer  throwing  light  on  the  mystery. 

"  Gone  in  the  footsteps  of  the  other  boy,  I 
guess,"  Mr.  Butler  could  not  refrain  from  re- 
plying, in  that  malevolent  way  so  peculiar  to 
him, 

"  Mr.  Butler,"  said  Mr.  Wilder,  quickly  and 
in  a  sharp  tone,  very  unusual  to  him,  "  you 
will  oblige  me,  if  not  by  suspending  judgment, 
by  refraining  from  expressing  such  opinions  in 
my  presence,  without  additional  proof.  I  ac- 
knowledge the  whole  affair  has  an  obscure  and 
perplexing  look  about  it,  but  I  am  not  yet  pre- 
pared to  hear  George  implicated  in  any  dishon- 
orable transaction."  And  yet,  though  he  could 
not  account  for  it  on  any  other  hypothesis,  he 
could  not  bear  to  know  any  one  else  had  sus- 


42  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 


picions  of  George.     Then  turning  to  his  book- 
keeper, he  remarked.     "  When  I  left  home  this 
morning  Mrs.  Wilder  was  quite  ill.     I  must 
go   home   to   see  her,  but   shall  return   here 
very  soon.     We  shall,  I  hope,  know  more  by 
and  by."  This  last  he  said  in  as  careless  a  tone 
as  he  could  assume,  and  hastened  home  with 
a    heavy  heart,   hoping    that   ere   his   return 
George   would    have    returned    from   dinner, 
and    account   satisfactorily  for    his    absence.' 
Had  it  been  any  one  else,  he  would  have  com- 
menced some  legal  course ;  but  a  certain  in- 
describable something  told  him  that  George 
was   still   correct.     He   might   have   lost   Ws 
money,  but  his  character,  never. 

Mrs.  Wilder  was  better;  but  her  husband 
sat  down  to  his  dinner  with  a  very  heavy 
heart,  and,  engrossed  in  his  -own  thoughts, 
made  no  conversation,  and  listened  to  but 
little  of  that  of  others. 

"Papa,"  said  little  Ella  Wilder,  "Mary 
Barrett  came  near  being  killed  this  morn- 
ing; she  was  knocked  down,  and  an  omni- 
bus was  just  running  over  her,  when  a  real 


AN    ACCIDENT    AND    A    MYSTERY.  43 

good  boy  caught  her,  but  the  boy  was  badly 
hurt." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  her  father,  hardly  hearing  her, 
and  apparently  paying  no  attention  to  what 
she  said,  for  he  had  too  much  on  his  own  mind 
then  to  sympathize  with  any  one  else. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Wilder,  "  she  did,  indeed, 
have  a  very  narrow  escape,  and  Mr,  Barrett 
is  now  away  endeavoring  to  ascertain  who 
and  what  her  benefactor  is.  The  lad  was 
taken  care  of  by  the  police,  and  it  is  of  them 
he  is  now  making  inquiries.  I  really  hope 
he  .may  be  successful ;  illustrations  of  such 
magnanimity  are  too  rare  to  be  passed  over 
in  silence,  and  how  grateful  we  should  feel 
to  her  preserver  if  it  had  been  our  little  Ella !  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Mr.  Wilder,  but  in  an 
abstracted  way,  that  indicated  that  his  mind 
was  elsewhere.  Mrs.  Wilder  observed  it,  but 
presuming  it  to  be  something  relating  to 
his  business,  in  which  she  had  no  special 
interest,  particularly  as  she  did  not  detect 
sorrow  in  his  manner,  simply  thoughtfulness, 
no  inquiry   was    made  into    the  cause.     Ella 


44  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

missed  her  regular  after-dinner  romp  with 
her  father,  for  he  at  once  returned  to  his 
store  in  as  great  haste  as  he  had  left  it. 

"Any  news  from  George?"  inquired  he 
of  Mr.  Butler,  as  soon  as  he  entered  the 
counting-room. 

"  None,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Do  you  know  exactly  where  he  lives  ? " 
"  No,  sir.      I  know  it  is   on  F  Street,  but 
just  where,  I  do  not  know." 

"I  also  know  it  is  on  F  Street,  and  he  once 
told  me,  in  answer  to  my  inquiry,  the  number 
of  the  house  and  name  of  the  lady  with  whom 
he  boards,  but  both  have  slipped  my  mind 
now." 

He   had    two   important    letters    to   write, 
and   then    he  was   determined    to   do   some- 
thing,—either  advertise,  or  consult  some  po- 
lice  authority,  much   as   his   feelings   remon- 
strated.    It  was   now  towards   the   close   of 
the   afternoon,  and   Mr.  Wilder  was    prepar- 
ing to   go  somewhere  to    do  something,  for 
he  had  no   fixed   plan  of  operation,  when  a 
boy  entered,  saying,  in  a  bold,  rather  imper- 
tinent way,  — 


AN    ACCIDENT    AND    A    MYSTERY.  45 

"  Here's  your  bank  book  ;  George  Hutchins 
sent  it  to  you.  He  won't  be  here  to-day,  and 
perhaps  for  many  more." 

"Where  is  he,  and  what  has  happened  to 
him  .'• "  inquired  Mr.  Wilder. 

"  Well,  he  got  run  over,  I  believe ;  but  I 
don't  know  much  about  it,  who's  to  blame,  nor 
nothin'  else.  He's  laid  up  in  bed  now.  He 
told  me  to  bring  it  when  I  come  from  dinner, 
but  I  forgot  all  about  it  till  I  felt  the  book  in 
my  pocket." 

"  Did  he  say  anything  about  money  ? " 

"  No,  —  or,  yes,  I  believe  he  did  say  some- 
thing ;  he  didn't  give  me  any,  though,  I  be- 
lieve he  did  say  he  wanted  you,  or  some  of 
you,  to  come  up." 

"  Where  does  he  live  ? " 

"Where  I  do,  up  to  Miss  Rice's,  No.  27 
F  Street.     He's  a  chum  of  mine." 

"  Then  you  know  him  well  ? " 

"  I'll  bet  I  do  ;  we  room  together." 

"  May  I  ask  your  name  .-' " 

"  My  name  is  Robert  Ashley." 

"  I  regret  that  you  did  not  inform  me  of 


46  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

this  before,  as  it  seems  you  were  requested  to  ; 
it  would  have  reheved  my  mind  very  much." 

"  Well,  I  should ;  but  I  come  down  from 
dinner  with  a  couple  of  fellows,  and  we 
stopped  for  a  smoke ;  and  when  I  got  down 
to  my  store,  it  was  time  to  go  in,  and  I  soon 
forgot  all  about  it.  I  didn't  think  it  of  much 
account,  or  I  should  have  come  any  how." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Wilder,  "  I  am  obliged  to 
you  for  bringing  me  the  news.  I  shall  call 
on  George  at  once." 

Robert  left  the  store  as  abruptly  as  he 
had  entered,  and  Mr.  Wilder  was  again  lost 
in  meditation ;  but  he  seemed  to  come  to  a 
favorable  conclusion,  for  he  arose,  and  telling 
Mr.  Butler  he  should  visit  George,  prepared 
to  carry  out  his  intention,  when  the  book- 
keeper volunteered  the  query, — 

"Well,  sir,  what  do  you  think  of  George 
now,  with  this  boy  for  a  companion  ?  Could 
any  good  be  expected  from  him  ? " 

''  I  must  confess,  Mr.  Butler,  the  whole  mat- 
ter has  a  very  sad  appearance  ;  but  we  will 
suspend    opinion    until    I    have   visited    him 


AN    ACCIDENT    AND    A    MYSTERY.  4/ 

at  his  boarding-house,  when  we  shall  be  better 
prepared  to  judge  without  prejudice." 

With  mingled  emotions  of  sympathy,  dis- 
trust, and  grief,  Mr.  Wilder  decided  to 
visit  George  at  his  room,  and  ascertain, 
if  possible,  how  much  of  truth  there  was  in 
the  suspicions  of  Mr.  Butler  and  the  reports 
of  Mr.  Thomas ;  and  it  must  be  confessed 
that,  deaf  as  he  would  have  been  yesterday 
to  any  charge  made  against  his  prot^gd,  the 
accumulation  of  circumstantial  evidence  pre- 
sented to  his  senses  to-day  almost  staggered 
his  confidence.  The  matter  of  the  money 
was  as  yet  unexplained,  and,  taken  all  in 
all,  the  case  presented  to  him  a  very  dark 
aspect.  His  heart  still  persisted  in  telling 
him  that  all  might  yet  be  explained  to  his 
satisfaction ;  and  yet  the  more  he  tried  to 
solve  the  problem  how,  the  more  mystified 
he  became,  and  by  the  time  he  found  him- 
self at  the  front  door  of  Mrs.  Rice's  resi- 
dence, with  his  hand  on  the  bell  knob,  he 
felt  almost  as  sceptical  as  even  Mr.  Butler 
could  have  desired. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  MYSTERY  PARTIALLY  SOLVED. 


WOULD     like     to     see     George 
Hutchins,  if  agreeable.     You  may 
tell  him  that  Mr.  Wilder  is  here." 
The  servant  soon  returned,  to  show  the  way 
to  the  sick  chamber.     There  lay  George,  pale 
and    weak     from    loss     of    blood      and    the 
severe   shock    he    had   received,   and    at   his 
bedside   Mr.    Wilder   saw,  with   surprise,   his 
neighbor,  Mr.  Barrett,  who,  before  Mr.  Wilder 
had  an  opportunity  to  inquire  into  George's 
condition,  at  once  broke  out  into  an  excited 
eulogy  of  our  young  friend,  which,  creditable 
as  it  was    to  his  heart,  and  doing  justice    to 
the   noble   boy   who   had   risked    his    life   to 
save   that  of  a  fellow-being,  was   not  partic- 

48 


THE  MYSTERY  PARTIALLY  SOLVED.    49 

ularly  productive  of  benefit  to  the  weak 
nerves    of  the    patient  sufferer   before   them. 

"  O,  Mr.  Wilder,  you  don't  know  how  happy 
I  am !  I  have  just  found  him !  He  saved 
Mary's  life  this  morning,  and  see  what  he 
is  enduring  in  consequence !  But  he  shan't 
lose  any  thing  by  it  ;  and  how  strange  that 
he  should  be  in  your  store !  I  didn't  know 
it  till  this  minute.  Why,  he's  a  jewel  for  any 
man  to  have."  Then,  to  the  boy,  "  God  bless 
you,  my  son !  I'll  take  care  of  you  ; "  and  the 
affectionate  father  wept  aloud  at  the  thought 
of  the  risk  his  darling  daughter  had  encoun- 
tered in  the  morning,  and  which  would  prob- 
ably have  proved  fatal  but  for  the  heroism 
of  George. 

The  moment's  pause  which  the  depth  of 
his  emotions  compelled  Mr.  Barrett  to  take, 
afforded  Mr.  Wilder  an  opportunity  to  devote 
his  attention  to  his  clerk,  who  looked  up 
with  a  faint  smile,  and  the  remark,  "  It  is 
very  kind  in  you  to  come  and  see  me,  Mr. 
Wilder.  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  obliged  to 
be  absent  from  the  store  many  days.     I  think 

4 


50  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

I  must  have  been  very  careless,  or  it  would 
not  have  happened.     You  will  find  —  " 

"  No,  you  wasn't  in  the  least  careless.  I 
have  seen  people  who  witnessed  the  whole 
affair,"  interrupted  Mr.  Barrett,  who,  instead 
of  becoming  cooler,  seemed  more  ardent  in 
his  praises,  and  so  extremely  voluble  that  Mr. 
Wilder  found  it  almost'impossible  to  ascertain 
the  extent  of  the  injuries  George  had  sus- 
tained, much  less  prosecute  the  series  of  in- 
quiries with  which  his  mind  was  filled,  and 
with  which  he  had  hoped  to  clear  away  the 
mist  which  hung  so  heavily  around  the  un- 
fortunate lad.  At  last,  finding  it  probable 
that  no  opportunity  would  offer  itself  for  a 
talk  with  George,  Mr.  Wilder  was  forced  to 
make  a  sign  to  Mr.  Barrett  for  a  moment's 
truce,  to  enable  him  to  hear  something  George 
evidently  had  to  say  to  him,  and  which  he 
had  made  several  unsuccessful  efforts  to  do. 

"  Well,  George,  you  was  commencing  to  say 
something." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  George,  feebly ;  "  you  will 
find  in  my  trunk  the  pocket-book  and  all  the 
money.     I  got  Mrs.  Rice  to  put  it  in  there 


THE    MYSTERY   PARTIALLY   SOLVED.  5 1 

for  safety  ;  here  is  the  key,"  motioning  towards 
his  pillow,  under  which  he  had  caused  it  to 
be  securely  placed.  Mr.  Wilder  took  it  from 
its  place  of  concealment,  opened  the  trunk, 
and  found  his  money.  He  didn't  stop  to 
count  it,  not  he  ;  a  boy  who  had  been  so  care- 
ful of  his  trust  would  lose  an  arm  rather 
than  defraud  him  of  a  cent.  But  he  did  not 
allude  to  his  feeling  on  this  subject ;  he  would 
have  been  ashamed  to  let  George  know 
that  he  had  even  suspected  him  of  dis- 
honesty. He  returned  to  the  bedside  to  in- 
quire more  particularly  into  the  accident,  and 
finally  managed  to  obtain  a  pretty  thorough 
idea  of  it,  and  the  praiseworthy  conduct  of 
his  clerk  in  it ;  the  main  features  from  George, 
the  coloring  and  commendation  from  Mr. 
Barrett. 

Now  that  the  matter  of  the  safety  of  the 
funds  was  settled  in  Mr.  Wilder's  mind,  he 
was  very  anxious  for  a  private  interview  with 
George  on  the  other  subjects  which  weighed 
so  heavily  on  his  mind,  and  which  he  might 
have  had  but  for  Mr.  Barrett's  presence,  as 
George  was  in  no  pain,  but  simply  suffering 


52  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

from  nervous  excitement,  which  Mr.  Barrett's 
manner  aggravated,  if  it  did  not  induce.  So 
he  concluded  to  leave  him,  and  seek  an  in- 
terview with  Mrs.  Rice,  and  in  a  casual  con- 
versation, perhaps  elicit  some  information  from 
that  source.  So  after  tendering  any  assistance 
that  might  be  required  (a  proffer  which  Mr. 
Barrett  instantly  vetoed  as  an  infringement 
on  his  rights),  he  affectionately  clasped 
George's  hand,  promising  to  call  on  the  mor- 
row, and  descended  to  the  parlor,  where  he 
was  soon  joined  by  the  landlady.  "  Mrs.  Rice, 
the  lad  who  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  .meet 
with  the  accident  to-day,  is  employed  in  my 
store.  I  wish  him  to  have  everything  possible 
to  render  him  comfortable,  and  shall  expect 
you  to  see  his  wants  supplied,  looking  to  me 
for  remuneration," 

"  I  shall  certainly  attend  personally  to  our 
young  friend,  Mr.  Wilder,  and  assure  you  he 
shall  want  for  nothing  to  make  him  comfort- 
able. You  cannot  imagine  how  terribly  it 
made  us  all  feel  when  he  was  brought  home 
this  noon,  he  is  so  good,  —  a  general  favorite 


THE  MYSTERY  PARTIALLY  SOLVED.    53 

in  the  house.  Why,  sir,  there  is  not  a  soul 
in  the  house  but  loves  him  as  a  brother,  while 
he  seems  almost  as  dear  to  me  as  a  son.  He 
is  the  best  boy  I  ever  saw ;  and  although  I 
don't  know  much  about  church  folks,  if  there's 
a  Christian  on  earth,  I  believe  that  boy's  one. 
He  is  never  out  of  the  house  nights  with 
other  boys,  and  until  lately  he  was  never  out 
except  his  meeting  nights ;  but  now  he  goes 
to  school,  he  has  to  be  out  other  nights,  but 
he  goes  just  such  a  time,  and  comes  home  at 
precisely  half  past  ten,  as  regular  as  the  clock. 
I  have  had  it  in  my  mind  to  speak  to  him,  for 
I  think  he  is  working  too  hard  for  a  boy  of 
his  age ;  he  don't  appear  very  strong."  It  is 
difficult  to  determine  when  the  enthusiastic 
lady  would  have  concluded  her  laudatory  re- 
marks, had  not  Mr.  Wilder  interrupted  her, 
by  asking,  "  Does  he  go  to  a  school .-' " 

"  Yes,  sir,  he  does  ;  I  forget  where,  but  he 
writes  beautifully  in  his  book.  I'll  go  up  and 
get  his  book  and  let  you  see  it." 

"  O,  no  ;  I  won't  trouble  you." 

"  O,  but  I  want  you  to  see  it  ;  his  writing 


54  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

is  a  pattern  of  neatness;  and  although  he  is 
no  relation,  I  can't  help  feeling  proud  of  him. 
O,  how  I  wish  my  Joseph  and  Robert  Ash- 
ley would  take  the  same  turn,  it  would  take  a 
load  off  my  mind ; "  saying  which,  she  swept 
out  of  the  room,  returning  quickly  with  a 
Ledger  and  Journal  from  a  well  known  Com- 
mercial College,  and  Mr.  Wilder,  on  examina- 
tion, did  not  wonder  at  her  ardor,  for  they 
.  were  really  patterns  of  neatness  and  good  pen- 
manship. 

"  By  the  way,  Mrs.  Rice,  I  heard  you  men- 
tion a  Robert  Ashley  ;  he  boards  with  you,  I 
believe.  Is  he  not  the  boy  who  brought  me 
the  intelligence  of  the  accident,  and  returned 
my  bank  book  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  he  is  ;  and  I  am  afraid  he  is  not 
what  he  ought  to  be.  He  has  been  in  my 
house  for  several  months,  and  but  for  his 
mother,  now  dead,  but  who  used  to  be  a  dear 
friend,  and  a  promise  I  made  his  father  (who 
is  a  sea  captain,  and  on  his  way  home  from 
China)  to  take  care  of  Robert  until  his  return, 
I  have  often  felt  like  telling  him  I  couldn't 


THE  MYSTERY  PARTIALLY  SOLVED.    55 

have  him  longer  in  my  house.  When  Mr. 
Wood  came  to  me  to  secure  board  for  George, 
I  said  I  could  not  take  him  ;  but  hearing  so 
good  an  account  of  him,  I  thought  I  would 
try,  provided  he  would  room  with  Robert  ; 
and  the  good  recommendation  George  had,  has 
proved  more  than  true,  and  I  thought  then,  and 
have  had  no  reason  to  change  my  impression, 
that  Robert  might  be  benefited  by  the  arrange- 
ment. I  know  that  they  are  not  alike  in 
their  tastes  or  habits,  and  shall  accommodate 
George  by  giving  him  another  room,  with  a 
more  agreeable  companion,  as  soon  as  I  can, 
for  he  has  spoken  to  me  about  it,  saying  that 
Robert's  language  was  sometimes  ^ery  trou- 
blesome to  him,  and  he  had  tried  to  induce 
him  to  leave  off  swearing,  but  he  feared  he 
was  too  firmly  wedded  to  it  to  change.  But, 
Mr.  Wilder,  many  and  many's  the  time  I 
have  passed  that  boy's  room  nights,  and  heard 
his  prayers  for  his  room-mate  ;  and  one  night, 
I  heard  him  beg  him  to  go  to  a  meeting  at 
the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  and 
they  went  ;  George  coming  home  early,  while 


5^  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

Robert  did  not  come  in  till  very  late,  and 
was  very  noisy,  and  used  bad  words.  It  was 
the  very  next  day  that  George  spoke  to  me 
first  about  changing  his  room,  and  he  felt 
bad  enough  when  he  did  it.  I  don't  know 
but  I  have  done  wrong  in  keeping  them  to- 
gether so  long;  I  will  see  that  George  is 
better  accommodated,  this  very  week."  Mrs. 
Rice  was  obliged  to  stop  to  take  breath, 
giving  Mr.  Wilder  an  opportunity  to  make 
some  inquiries  about  Robert  Ashley. 

"  Where  is  this  Robert  employed,  and  why 
was  he  selected  to  go  to  my  store.?  Could 
no  other  have  been  procured  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,  sir.  He  had  just  done  his 
dinner  and  had  come  up  to  see  George,  as  all 
the  boarders  had  before  him,  and  was  askin^ 
some  questions  about  it,  when  suddenly  the 
thought  struck  George  that  you  ought  to 
know  about  it  (I  don't  think  he  was  exactly 
himself  till  that  minute),  and  he  wanted  to 
send  back  your  bank  book  ;  and  Robert  spoke 
up,  says  he,  "  I'll  take  it  down,  and  tell  him 
all  about  it,  before  I  go  to  my  store."     This 


THE    MYSTERY    PARTIALLY    SOLVED.  5/ 

relieved  George's  mind  very  much,  and  I  sup- 
pose it  relieved  your  mind  to  hear  about  your 
money,  too." 

"  Yes,  I  was  somewhat  relieved  when  I 
did  hear,  but  it  was  not  till  a  very  late  hour 
this  afternoon  ;  and  I  had  opportunity  to  sur- 
mise and  fear  a  hundred  things  before  the  mes- 
sage was  delivered,  and  then  the  messenger  did 
not  tell  me  a  word  about  my  money  being  safe." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Wilder,  how  you  talk !  As  soon 
as  George  came  to  his  senses,  and  knew  it 
was  his  duty  to  let  you  know,  he  called  to 
me  to  bring  his  coat.  He  then  told  me  to 
take  out  the  bank  book,  that  he  sent  by 
Robert ;  and  he  told  him  to  tell  you  that  he 
had  your  money  all  safe  ;  and  after  Robert 
had  gone,  he  told  me  to  take  the  pocket-book 
from  another  pocket,  and  take  his  trunk  key 
and  lock  up  the  money  till  you  should  come 
or  send.  O,  how  the  poor  boy  would  have 
suffered  if  he  had  known  you  was  in  sus- 
pense so  long.     Why,  what  did  you  think  .-* " 

Mr.  Wilder  did  not  enlighten  her  on  his 
thoughts  upon  the  subject,  and  she  continued  : 


5  8  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

"Robert  left  here  before  half  past  one,  and 
said  he  would  go  straight  to  your  store.  O, 
he's  a  dreadful  boy."  Again  proffering  aid,' 
and  requesting  permission  to  pay  Mrs.  Rice 
for  the  extra  services  George  might  require 
during  his  illness,  — an  offer  which  that  lady 
almost  indignantly  refused,  — Mr.  Wilder  took 
his  leave,  promising  to  call  the  next  day. 

As  he  was  walking  home,  his  mind  filled 
with   the   agreeable   sequel   to>  his   fears,   his 
eye   rested   on   the   illuminated   sign    of    the 
Commercial  College  which  George  had  been 
attending;  and,   being    acquainted    with    the 
Principal,  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to 
add  more  to  his  stock  of  information  about 
George.     And  this  he  desired,  not  so  much 
for  the  purpose  of  satisfying  himself,  as  to  be 
able   still   better  to   rebut    the  •  rumors    and 
prejudices  and  reports  of  others,  for  he  was 
himself  thoroughly  convinced  that  in  no  way 
had  George  deviated  from  the  strict  path  of 
rectitude.       He    found     the     gentleman     in 
his     office,     and    after    a    few     general    re- 
marks on  business,  Mr.  Wilder  inquired  as  to 


THE  MYSTERY  PARTIALLY  SOLVED^    59 

the  school,  number  of  pupils,  &c.,  r-emarking, 
"  You  have  a  lad  on  your  catalogue,  I  be- 
lieve, who  is  in  my  employ." 

"  Have  I  ? "  then,  in  the  same  breath,  "  O, 
yes,  George  Hutchins  ;  a  good  boy,  a  very 
good  boy,  sir.  He  is  a  constant  comer  every 
night  but  two  in  the  week,  and  he  comes 
here  to  learn ;  no  excuse  to  be  rid  of  home 
restraint  in  his  coming  here.  Yes,  sir,  I 
think  you  do  well  if  you  appreciate  him  ;  he 
will  live  to  make  his  mark  yet." 

"  He  is  confined  to  his  room  now  from  the 
effects  of  an  accident,  which  might  have  been 
very  serious."  Mr.  Wilder  then  detailed  the 
circumstances  of  the  day's  casualty. 

"  I  certainly  hope  he  will  soon  be  able  to 
be  about,"  replied  the  teacher,  "for  I  have 
formed  a  somewhat  unusual  regard  for  him 
for  so  short  an  acquaintance." 

Mr.  Wilder  found  his  tea  waiting,  and  a 
fresh  group  of  sympathizers,  when  he  had 
told  them  the  cause  of  his  tardiness,  and 
Mrs.  Wilder  and  Ella  were  deeply  interested 
in  the  condition  of  the  lad,  and  loud  in  their 
praises  of  his  kindness  of  heart. 


6o 


THE   BOSTON   BOY. 


"It  is  just  like  him,  father,"  said  Mrs. 
Wilder,  "I  have  always  liked  that  boy  since 
the  first  day  I  saw  him." 

Ella  laughed  and  cried  by  turns,  at  the 
thought  of  her  playmate's  rescue  and  the 
accident  which  had  befallen  George  in  effect- 
ing it,  till  Mr.  Wilder  could  not,  if  a  fortune 
had  been  offered  him  as  the  premium,  have 
whispered  to  that  interested  little  audience 
one  syllable  of  the  suspicion  which  he  was 
now  heartily  ashamed  of  having  entertained 
even  for  an  instant. 

They  were  just  seating  themselves  in  the 
parlor  after  tea,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barrett 
entered,  the  former  remarking  that  he  could 
not  rest  at  home  without  seeing  Mr.  Wilder 
about  George,  and  what  should  be  done  for 
him. 

"  I  owe  the  preservation  of  the  life "  of  my 
child  to  that  boy,"  he  said,  and  "  I  am  able, 
thank  God,  to  prove  to  him  how  noble  a  fellow 
I  think  him.  Come,  now,  name  it ;  whatever 
you  tell  me  to  do,  I  will  agree  to  have  done."  ' 
Mr.  Wilder  at  this  point  had  a  nervous  twitch- 


THE    MYSTERY    PARTIALLY    SOLVED.         6 1 

ing  at  his  heart,  for  he  could  not  help  feeling 
that  he  too  owed  the  boy  something  for  allow- 
ing his  trust  in  him  to  be  in  any  way  shaken, 
and  it  was  probably  for  this  reason  that  he 
thoughtfully  replied,  "  I  should  suggest  a 
delay  of  a  few  days,  until  George  is  able 
to  be  about ;  for,  according  to  present  ap- 
pearances, it  will  not  be  long  before  he  will  be 
'well  enough  to  resume  his  duties  at  the  store  ; 
then  we  will  consult  together  about  the  matter, 
for  I  feel  almost  as  deeply  grateful  to  God  for 
the  safety  of  your  daughter,  and  to  George  as 
the  instrument  by  which  it  was  accomplished, 
as  yourself,  and  shall  consequently  claim  a 
portion  of  the  privilege  myself"  This  being 
settled  satisfactorily,  they  soon  after  sep- 
arated for  the  ni2:ht. 


CHAPTER    V 


DISTRESS   AND   RELIEF. 


HE  next  morning,  Mrs.  Wilder  hav- 
ing   prepared   a  basket  of  grapes 
and    pears,   sent   a   messenger    to 
Mrs.   Rice's  to   inquire  about   George's   con- 
dition, and  Mr.  Wilder  delayed  his  departure 
for  his  store  until  the  servant  returned,  who 
brought  the  gratifying  intelligence   that   the 
night   had    been    a  comfortable  one,  and  he 
was  able  to  sit  up,  with  a  prospect  of  being 
well  enough  to  be  out  in  two  or  three  days. 
While    Mr.    Wilder    was    waiting    at    his 
house    for    the    return   of    the    servant   who 
had     been    sent    to     inquire    after    George, 
the  uncle  of  the  latter,  having  that  mornino- 
rc'iurned    from    the    West,   via    New    York, 

62 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF.  63 

called  at  the  store  to  see  his  nephew.  Not 
finding  either  him  or  Mr.  Wilder,  he  in- 
quired for  George  of  Mr.  Butler,  who  re- 
plied, in  his  pecuhar  manner,  "  I  don't  know' 
anything  about  him.  He  went  to  the 
bank  yesterday,  and  didn't  come  back,  and 
I  haven't  heard  anything  of  him  or  the 
thousand  dollars  he  drew.  Towards  night 
one  of  his  rowdyish  companions  came  in, 
and  said  he'd  got  run  over,  or  something 
of  the  kind,  I  don't  remember  exactly  what ; 
but  judging  from  the  style  of  the  company 
he  goes  in,  and  the  late  hours  he  keeps,  I 
guess  his  praying  don't  do  him  much  good. 
Perhaps  Mr.  Wilder  may  know  something 
more  about  him  when  he  comes,  but  I  don't ; 
he  probably  will  never  show  his  head  here 
again." 

How  much  longer  he  would  have  con- 
tinued in  this  strain,  would  have  depended 
probably  on  the  patience  and  attention  of 
his  listener.  But  Mr.  Wood  could  stop  to 
hear  no  more ;  he  quickly  left  the  store  for 
George's    boarding-house,    thinking    of    only 


64  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

one  thing  all  the  way,  "Can  George  have 
been  drawn  into  bad  company?  Is  it  pos- 
sible that  his  mother's  prayers  and  his  own 
oft-repeated  statements  of  dedication  to  God 
forever  have  all  been  in  vain  ?  And  then 
the  money  ?  He  never  dreamed  of  his  be- 
ing dishonest !  He  could  not,  he  would  not, 
he  did  not  believe  it ;  but  he  was  determined 
to  go  and  see  and  hear  for  himself  He  found 
the  sick  lad  quite  comfortable,  and  request- 
ing his  attendants  to  leave  them,  they  were 
soon  alone. 

"  George,  I  never  had  occasion  in  my  life  to 
speak  to  you  in  the  manner  and  on  the  sub- 
ject which  now  saddens  my  heart.  On  go- 
ing into  your  store  this  morning,  on  my  way 
from  the  depot,  I  inquired  for  you  of  the 
book-keeper,  Mr.  Wilder  not  being  in,  who,  in 
very  peculiar  language,  told  me  that  your  as- 
sociations were  very  bad  ;  that  you  were  often 
seen  out  late  at  night ;  that  you  were  sent 
yesterday  to  draw  one  thousand  dollars  from 
the  bank,  which  has  never  been  received,  and 
what  is  worse  than  all,  if  all  the  rest  could 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF.  65 

be  explained,  he  says  you  are  bringing  a  re- 
proach on  the  holy  cause  of  religion.  George, 
if  this  be  true,  it  will  break  your  mother's 
heart." 

Surprise  was  the  emotion  on  George's  coun- 
tenance as  his  uncle  slowly  commenced  his  re- 
marks, but  ere  he  had  concluded,  that  had 
passed  away,  and  unutterable  grief  took  its 
place :  a  look  of  despair,  almost.  "  O,  what 
do  you  mean }  Speak  quick !  I  can  bear 
it,  bear  all ;  only  tell  me  ;  tell  me  what  he 
means." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  his  uncle,  "  but  from 
his  manner,  I  thought  it  something  so  well 
established  as  fact,  that  you  could  tell  me ; 
besides,  I  could  not  stop  to  hear  more  from 
him." 

"  O,  uncle,  I  must  go  this  minute  to  the 
store,  see  Mr.  Wilder,  and  learn  all  from 
his  lips.  What  does  he  mean  about  the 
money .-'  I  kept  it  safe  for  him,  sent  for 
him,  and  gave  it  into  his  own  hands,  all 
right.  I  have  been  misunderstood,  perhaps 
misrepresented.     I  know  I  was  not  a  favorite 


66  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

of  Mr.  Butler's,  but  I  tried  so  hard  to  please 
him,  hoping  he  would  learn  to  like  me. 
Mr.  Wilder  did  not  say  one  word  last 
night  that  I  had  done  wrong.  Who  has 
been  so  cruel  to  me  ?  for,  uncle,  I  am 
not  conscious  of  having  done  one  thing 
wrong  since  I  entered  the  employ  of  Mr. 
Wilder ; "  adding  reverently,  as  he  lifted  his 
tearful  eyes  to  Heaven,  "  God  knows  I  have 
not.  I  will  go  to  the  store  at  once ; " 
saying  this,  he  arose  suddenly  before  Mr. 
Wood  could  interpose ;  but  his  strength  failed 
him,  and  he  fell  back,  almost  unconscious,  in 
his  chair. 

"No,  George,  you  are  not  able,"  said  ]\Tr. 
Wood,  as  soon  as  his  nephew  had  revived  ; 
"  but  I  will  go  and  see  Mr.  Wilder,  and  from 
his  lips  learn  all.  I  believe  you  innocent, 
George,  and  you  may  rely  on  me  as  your 
protector." 

"  Not  altogether,"  said  George,  looking 
toward  heaven,  while  a  faint  approach 
to  a  smile  lighted  his  features  for  a  moment, 
and  but  for  a  moment. 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF.  6/ 

"  No,  not  altogether,  George,  but  with  God's 
help  I  will  see  you  righted.  You  shall  know 
from  headquarters  in  what  your  fault  lies,  and 
how  much  you  have  been  blamed.  I  will  re- 
turn  as   soon   as  I  have  had  an  interview." 

As  Mr.  Wood  arose  to  go,  a  fresh  out- 
burst of  grief  on  George's  part,  compelled 
his  uncle  to  remain  longer  ;  and  it  was  a  long 
time  before  the  young  man  was  sufficiently 
composed  to  be  safe  to  leave.  Mr.  Wood  was 
perfectly  satisfied  in  his  own  mind,  that 
George  was  entirely  innocent  of  the  charges 
alleged,  and  went  with  all  possible  speed  to 
Mr.  Wilder's  store. 

As  soon  as  the  servant  had  returned  and 
reported  on  George's  condition,  Mr.  Wilder 
went  to  his  store  ;  and  as  he  passed  into  his 
private  office  to  examine  his  morning  mail,  he 
took  the  opportunity  to  say,  "  Mr.  Butler,  after 
a  thorough  examination  into  George's  course 
during  his  connection  with  us,  I  am  persuaded 
of  his  integrity  and  upright  deportment,  and 
look  upon  all  efforts  to  injure  his  reputation 
as  emanating  from  one  of  two  causes :  either 


68  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

wilful  misrepresentation,  to  satisfy  personal 
purposes,  or  false  information,  based  on  total 
ignorance  of  the  whole  affair.  George  will 
be  able  to  be  at  the  store,  God  willing,  and 
attend  to  his  duties  next  week,  and  I  shall 
expect  you  to  treat  him  with  at  least  more 
civility  than  has  been  your  custom.  Here 
is  the  thousand  dollars :  amid  all  the  ex- 
citement of  the  trying  hour  in  which  he 
was  injured  in  saving  the  life  of  another,  he 
held  on  to  his  pocket-book,  and  despatched  a 
messenger  to  me  yesterday  as  soon  as  he  re- 
covered his  consciousness,  requesting  me  to 
go  or  send  to  his  house  and  get  it,  too  honest 
to  trust  the  funds  in  the  hands  of  another. 
The  messenger  negligently  failed  to  deliver 
his  message  properly,  and,  on  my  arrival  at 
his  house,  I  found  that,  notwithstanding  his 
physical  sufferings,  he  had  been  cautious 
enough  to  have  the  money  placed  in  his 
trunk,  the  trunk  locked,  and  the  key  put 
under  the  pillow  that  supported  his  bruised 
and  aching  head.  Does  this  look  hke  a 
double-faced  boy .-'     There  is  more  that  I  may 


DISTRESS   AND    RELIEF.  ,      69 

say  to  you  of  him  at  another  time,  but  let 
me  assure  you  that  you  are  entirely  in  the 
wrong  when  you  charge  him  with  any  of  the 
errors  you  alleged."  No  answer  was  expected, 
and  no  audible  one  vouchsafed,  but  an  angry 
mutter,  unheard  by  Mr.  Wilder,  was  returned, 
which,  if  reduced  to  language,  would  have  said, 
"  I'll  fix  him  yet." 

The  business  of  the  early  morning  over,  —  it 
occupied  about  half  an  hour,  —  Mr.  Wilder  de- 
spatched a  note  to  Mr.  Thomas,  George's  Sun- 
day school  teacher,  requesting  his  presence  at 
the  counting-room  of  the  former,  if  convenient ; 
to  which  a  favorable  response  was  returned, 
and  soon  that  gentleman  made  his  appearance. 
Mr.  Wilder  rehearsed  to  him  his  experiences 
of  the  preceding  day  and  night,  adding,  "  I 
am  now  perfectly  satisfied  that  although  you 
have  seen  George  in  the  company  of  that 
Robert  Ashley,  he  was  not  with  him  for  any 
harm,  and  that  all  their  intercourse  at  home 
or  abroad  has  been,  on  George's  part,  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  benefiting  his  room- 
mate.    I   have   heard   an   excellent  report  of 


70  THE   BOSTON    BOY, 

him  from  Mrs.  Rice,  with  whom  he  boards, 
and  from  the  teacher  of  the  evening  school 
which  he  has  been  attending  for  a  short  time. 
This,  taken  in  connection  with  my  experience 
with  him  here,  on  week  days,  and  what  you 
and  I  have  both  seen  on  Sundays  and  at 
evening  meetings,  is,  I  feel,  proof  positive,  that 
what  we  looked  upon  as  improper  companion- 
ship for  him,  was  undoubtedly  seriously  an- 
noying to  him,  and  only  tolerated  in  the  hope 
that  he  might  be  the  means,  in  the  hand  of  God, 
3f  doing  good.  I  propose  to  call  on  him  on  my 
way  home  to-night,  and  if  you  will  accompany 
me,  I  am  sure  he  will  be  happy  to  see  us 
both." 

"  With  all  my  heart ;  I  will  call  for  you  at 
five.  You  have  removed  a  heavy  load  from 
my  mind,  and  I  sincerely  sympathize  with 
him  in  his  misfortune." 

Mr.  Thomas  was  just  leaving  the  store, 
when  Mr.  Wood  entered  Mr.  Wilder's  office. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Wood  ;  a  fine  morn- 
ing. Your  nephew  met  with  quite  a  severe  ac- 
cident yesterday  ;  but  how  providential  that  it 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF.  7 1 

was  not  more  serious ;  it  might  have  cost 
him  his  hfe,  or  maimed  him." 

Mr.  Wood  had  time  while  Mr.  Wilder  was 
speaking,  to  think, — "Well,  this  does  not  look 
like  crimination.  But  perhaps  he  does  not 
know  all  that  the  book-keeper  has  told  me ; 
he  surely  cannot  know  the  worst,  or  he  would 
not  appear  so  agreeable  to  me."  Then  aloud, 
"  Yes,  it  is  really  a  cause  for  rejoicing  that 
his  life  was  spared.  But  you  are  probably  in 
possession  of  more  of  the  particulars  than  I, 
for  I  was  away  from  home  when  the  accident 
occurred,  and  only  returned  this  morning, 
and  all  the  details  I  have  heard  were  the  lit- 
tle your  book-keeper  seemed  to  know,  before 
you  came  in  this  morning,  and  what  I  could 
gather  from  George,  whose  sick  room  I  have 
just  left,  and  he  is  so  distressed  in  his  mind 
that  I  could  learn  but  little  of  the  cause  or 
circumstances  of  the  case." 

"  Distressed  in  mind  ?  Why,  he's  the  last 
person  on  earth  to  be  distressed  in  mind, 
Mr.  Wood.  I  do  believe,  that  had  it  pleased 
the  Almighty  in  his  wisdom  to  take  George 


72  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

away  from  this  world  of  sin  and  sorrow,  he 
could  have  made  his  appearance  before  his 
Creator  with  a  cleaner  record  than  some  of 
us  who  have  lived  longer  and  professed  more  ; 
and  if  his  was  a  mind  to  be  affected  by 
adulation,  he  would  not  be  much  disturbed 
on  that  score,  for  we  all  think  his  conduct  on 
that  occasion  praiseworthy,  while  Mr.  Barrett 
is  determined  on  making  a  hero  of  him.  But 
what  do  you  mean  by  his  being  distressed  in 
mind .? " 

Mr.  Wood  then  informed  him  of  his  inter- 
view in  the  morning  with  the  book-keeper, 
who  gave  him  to  understand  that  George  had 
been  guilty  of  flagrant  acts  of  impropriety, 
some  of  which  he  particularized,  but  in  such 
a  spirit  of  exultation  as  tto  be  extremely  pain- 
ful, and  he  sought  George  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, to  know  what  it  all  meant,  expecting  of 
course  a  confession  ;  but  was  astonished  to  find, 
first,  that  he  had  done  nothing  wrong,  and 
second,  that  he  had  no  idea  that  he  had  been 
suspected  of  so  doing.  He  continued :  "  I  have 
therefore  left  him  in  a  state  of  terrible  suspense, 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF.  73 

and  after  you  have  told  me  all  you  are  willing  or 
at  liberty  to,  I  shall  return  to  the  poor  sufferer, 
to  cheer  or  condole,  as  the  circumstances  may 
warrant.  If  these  charges  your  book-keeper 
has  insinuated  are  true,  I  shall  never  place 
confidence  in  humanity  again  ;  if  they  are 
false,  a  terrible  responsibility  rests  somewhere, 
for  George's  spirit  is  nearly  broken  by  the 
shock." 

"  Mr.  Wood,  I  owe  you  a  full  and  candid 
statement  of  all  I  know  in  the  matter,  both 
for  your  sake  and  that  of  your  nephew.  My 
intention  was  never  to  allude  to  it  again  to 
a  Uving  creature.  My  wife  knows  nothing 
of  it,  and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  heartily 
ashamed  to  have  allowed  myself  to  think  ill 
for  a  moment  of  one  who  has  exhibited 
nothing  but  fidelity  since  his  first  connec- 
tion with  my  establishment.  This  I  make 
as  a  preliminary  apology,  if  you  please  to  con- 
sider it  such.  As  I  said  before,  I  intended 
to  remain  silent  on  this  subject,  but  as  my 
book-keeper  has  been  so  indiscreet  as  to 
allude    in    this   equivocal   way   to   the   affair. 


74  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

i  will  tell  you  all  I  know.  A  report  reached 
me  only  yesterday,  that  George  had  some  un- 
principled associates.  My  clerk  referred  to  him 
besides,  in  language  intended  to  convince  me 
of  his  certain  knowledge  that  your  nephew  was 
pursuing  a  dissolute  course,  and  his  very 
mysterious  and  continued  absence,  without  a 
word  of  apology  or  explanation,  till  a  late 
hour  yesterday,  and  even  then,  the  explanation 
given  in  a  very  unsatisfactory  manner  by  the 
messenger  (who  proved  to  be  the  very  boy 
whose  association  with  George  had  so  damaged 
his  reputation,  if  not  his  character),  confirmed 
my  suspicions  that  the  information  was  cor- 
rect. Again,  he  was  sent  to  draw  a  check  for 
one  thousand  dollars,  in  small  bills,  to  be  used 
here  in  various  disbursements,  and  I  had  no 
word  of  him,  or  the  money,  till  the  informer 
came  at  a  late  hour ;  then,  even  on  ques- 
tioning him  about  the  money,  the  messenger 
appeared  to  know  nothing,  and  his  equivocal 
reply  led  me  to  suspect  the  worst.  Bowed 
down  with  the  conviction  that  my  confidence 
had  been  abused,  I  repaired  to  Mrs.  Rice's, 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF,  y$ 

and  had  an  interview  with  George  in  the 
presence  of  Mr.  Barrett,  the  life  of  whose  child 
he  had  saved,  and  which  was  of  course  un- 
favorable for  much  of  the  conversation  I  de- 
sired ;  but  during  which,  after  many  attempts 
to  gain  the  opportunity,  George  motioned  me 
to  take  from  under  his  pillow  the  key  of  his 
trunk,  in  which  I  found  my  money  all  safe. 
Instead  of  being  dishonest,  he  had  displayed 
a  caution  remarkable  for  one  of  his  years, 
particularly  when  his  condition  is  considered. 
Thus,  one  of  the  heavy  loads  was  taken  from 
my  mind.  There  was  something,  too,  in  his 
manner,  his  resignation  under  the  affliction, 
that  savored  more  of  heaven  than  earth. 
Leaving  him,  I  sought  an  interview  with  Mrs. 
Rice,  who  gave  me  such  a  glowing  account 
of  the  consistent  Christian  character  he  had 
always  sustained,  and  such  a  satisfactory  ex- 
planation of  the  causes  leading  him  into  the 
society  of  this  prodigal  youth,  the  connection 
of  whose  name  with  George  gave  rise  to  all 
the  trouble,  that  after  leaving  his  presence 
I   could   entertain    towards    myself   but   one 


'jS  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

emotion.  I  was,  sir,  ashamed  that  I  could 
ever  have  listened  for  a  moment  to  the  stories 
which  I  fear  were  made  by  some  jealous,  evil- 
disposed  person  or  persons,  for  the  express 
purpose  of  ruining  the  boy."  Then,  in  a  sup- 
pressed tone,  "  My  book-keeper  has  been  with 
me  a  long  time,  and  I  can  only  account  for 
his  zeal  in  this  matter  by  the  interest  he 
takes  in  my  business.  I  am  led  to  this  be- 
lief, as  I  know  it  was  through  his  penetration 
that  the  dishonesty  of  George's  predecessor 
was  discovered.  But  if  it  be  that  only,  I  must 
say  his  devotion  has  in  this  case  overbalanced 
his  judgment,  I  think  I  have  said  enough, 
Mr.  Wood,  to  convince  you  that  if  I  ever 
did  really  suspect  .George  of  improprieties,  that 
suspicion  has  been  entirely  removed,  and  I 
consider  him  purer,  in  consequence  of  this 
fire  of  tribulation." 

"  Mr.  Wilder,  I  thank  you  ;  and  I  thank 
God  for  the  lad's  acquittal  from  suspicion, 
and  look  upon  the  whole  affair  as  intended 
by  the  Almighty  as  a  lesson  for  him  and  for  us, 
and  may  it  do  us  all  good,  is  my  earnest  prayer." 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF.  7/ 

A  hearty  "  Amen  "  was  Mr.  Wilder's  reply. 

Mr.  Wood  lost  no  time  in  apprising  George 
of  the  favorable  turn  affairs  had  taken,  and 
this  time,  George's  tears  were  of  joy  and 
gratitude  ;  joy,  that  he  had  never  been  guilty 
of  the  crime,  and  gratitude  to  his  heavenly 
Father,  who  had  thrown  his  protecting  arm 
around  him,  and  answered  his  prayer,  "  De- 
liver me  from  evil." 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Wood  had  left,  Mr.  Wilder 
called  his  book-keeper,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Butler, 
your  impressions  with  regard  to  George,  are 
entirely  unfounded.  I  regret  exceedingly  that 
you  should  be  so  cruel  as  to  endeavor  to  blight 
the  prospects  in  life  of  a  young  man  whose 
promise  is  so  fair  for  a  useful  and  happy  fu- 
ture, without  more  evidence  to  support  you. 
I  had  intended  to  say  nothing  more  on  the 
subject ;  but  as  you  gave  Mr.  Wood,  the  uncle 
of  the  lad,  a  very  high  colored  and  partial 
idea  of  the  affair,  and  added  to  it  an  imagina- 
tion of  your  own,  it  is  my  desire  now  to  say 
to  you,  that  I  shall  expect  you  to  be  silent 
.on    the    subject    unless   spoken   to   about   it 


78  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

by  me.  It  is  sufficient  for  you  to  know  that 
I  am  satisfied  there  is  no  ground  for  sus- 
picion that  George  is  not  everything  he 
should  be ;  and  if  there  were  nothing  else  to 
disprove  it,  the  material  that  composes  the 
humanity  that  risks  his  own  life  to  save 
another's,  is  not  the  stuff  of  which  cowardly, 
dissipated,  thieving  clerks  is  composed." 

"  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Wilder,"  replied  Mr. 
Butler,  "  I  am  only  too  happy  to  know  I  was 
in  error,  and  beg  pardon,  for  my  apparently 
unnecessary  earnestness.  But  I  did  feel  that 
I  was  doing  right  in  informing  you  of  what  I 
believed  to  be  wrong  in  George,  and  it  af- 
fords me  as  much  pleasure  to  be  undeceived 
as  you  can  possibly  experience  yourself"  As 
he  left,  he  would  have  said,  if  he  dared,  "  When 
I  try  again,  I  will  be  sure  of  my  plot." 

At  a  little  past  five  o'clock,  Messrs.  Wilder 
and  Thomas  found  themselves  in  George's 
room.  The  sick  lad  was  propped  in  an  easy- 
chair  ;  a  table  stood  near  by,  bearing  a  bouquet 
of  fragrant  flowers  which  Mrs.  Barrett  had  sent" 
him,  and  his  Bible  was  at  his  side,  where  he 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF.  79 

had  placed  it  when  the  visitors  were  an- 
nounced. The  approach  of  Mr.  Wilder,  would 
have  been  the  signal  for  an  outburst  of  grief 
on  George's  part,  had  not  Mr.  Wilder  checked 
him  by  the  remark,  "  It  is  all  right,  George  ;  I 
am  to  blame,  and  you  have  only  been  the  vic- 
tim of  a  misrepresentation  and  misunderstand- 
ing, which,  I  am  happy  to  say,  only  makes  me 
feel  more  attachment  towards  you.  You  had 
many  warm  friends  before,  but  there  is  not  one 
among  them  who  does  not  place  more  confi- 
dence in  you  than  ever  before.  Now  we  will 
not  allude  to  the  matter  again,  at  least  for 
the  present.  Here  is  your  friend  Mr.  Thomas, 
anxious  to  grasp  your  hand,  and  express  his 
gratitude  for  your  preservation  from  death, 
and  to  congratulate  you  on  your  appearance 
to-day,  for  you  are  quite  improved  since  I 
saw  you  yesterday.  By  the  way,  you  have 
not  had  your  mother  informed  of  the  accident, 
have  you  } " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  thought  it  would  alarm  her, 
and  as  I  shall  probably  be  able  so  soon  to  go 
out   of  doors,  I   concluded   to   postpone   any 


80   *  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

account  of  it,  until  I  could  tell  her  with 
truth  that  I  was  entirely  well." 

"  Just  right,"  said  both  gentlemen  ;  and  Mr. 
Wilder  added,  "  I  was  just  about  to  suggest 
the  same  thing.  Now,  George,  you  are  de- 
cidedly better,  are  you  not }  " 

"  O,  yes,  sir ;  I  am  almost  entirely  free 
from  pain,  and  feel  as  if  I  was  gaining  strength 
every  hour." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it ;  you  will  soon 
be  able  to  go  out." 

The  three  then  entered  into  a  general  con- 
versation, carefully  excluding  any  mention  of 
the  sad  affair  of  which  they  could  not  help 
thinking.  They  staid  about  an  hour,  during 
which  time  Mrs.  Rice  came  in  with  his  toast 
and  tea ;  for  she  would  allow  no  one  else 
to  minister  to  the  wants  of  her  pet,  now  he 
was  sick.  At  last,  they  rose  to  go ;  Mr. 
Wilder  remarking,  "  Now  we  will  leave  you, 
and  if  you  think  of  anything  you  would  like 
to  have  sent  you,  just  mention  it,  and  I  will 
see  you  supplied." 

"  No,  sir,  I    thank   you.     I   have   had   two 


DISTRESS    AND    RELIEF.  8l 

splendid  presents  to-day,  from  Mrs,  Wilder 
and  Mrs.  Barrett,  and  have  no  wants  ungrat- 
ified."  Then  turning  to  Mr.  Thomas,  who  was 
taking  George's  hand  to  bid  him  good  even- 
ing, "  There  is  one  desire,  however,  which  I 
fear  must  remain  unsatisfied,"  he  said,  with  a 
smile. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Thomas. 

"  I  shall  not  be  able  to  be  present  with 
you  to-morrow  in  the  Sabbath  school ;  but  I 
shall  not  forget  you,  and  when  the  hour 
comes  you  may  think  of  me,"  holding  up  his 
Bible,  "  as  studying  this,  and  trying  to  pray 
that  your  labors  may  be  blessed." 

"  Good  by,"  and  "  God  bless  you,"  was 
heartily  said  by  all,  and  they  took  their  leave. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


HEROISM  AND  INTEGRITY   REWARDED. 


HARLES  BUTLER,  the  book-keeper 
and  cashier  of  the  house  of  Wilder 
and  Clark,  was  a  native  of  New 
Hampshire,  in  which  State  he  was  educated, 
and  from  which,  at  the  age  of  seventeen  years, 
he  came  to  Boston,  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
curing employment.  His  parents  were  in 
very  moderate  circumstances,  but  had  given 
him  the  advantages  of  a  good  common-school 
education  ;  and  they  had  also  given  him,  as 
as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  children,  faithful  re- 
ligious instruction.  His  efforts  to  obtain  a 
situation  were  not  so  successful  as  he  had 
anticipated ;  and  he  was  not  long  in  learn- 
ing,  that    highly  as    he    estimated    his  own 

82 


HEROISM    AND    INTEGRITY   REWARDED,       83 

abilities,  and  higher  as  they  really  were,  in 
comparison  with  the  majority  in  the  little 
village  where  he  first  saw  the  light,  they 
failed  of  appreciation  in  the  great  metropolis, 
where  he  had  vainly  hoped  his  command- 
ing form  and  personal  charms,  with  his  men- 
tal acquirements,  which  he  valued  so  much, 
would  speedily  merit  approval,  and  command 
a  high  price.  But  in  this  he  was  mistaken ; 
it  was  not  so  easy  to  secure  a  position,  and 
he  was  glad  at  last  to  accept  a  situation  as 
entry  clerk,  at  moderate  compensation,  in  order 
to  secure  the  means  of  subsistence. 

He  fortunately  had  been  very  attentive  to 
his  duties,  arid  through  the  influence  of  the 
chief  book-keeper  of  the  concern  he  had  been 
with,  he  was  soon  offered  and  accepted  a 
similar  position  in  the  counting-room  of  his 
present  employer  ;  and  a  year  or  two  later, 
the  book-keeper  having  an  opportunity  to 
enter  into  business  on  his  own  account,  left, 
and  Mr,  Wilder  promoted  him  'to  the  position 
he  had  now  held  five  years. 

His  business  qualifications  were  good,  and 


84  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

it  is  but  fair  to  state  that  Mr.  Wilder  had 
impHcit  confidence  in  his  integrity.  To- 
ward him,  Mr.  Butler  had  always  appeared 
in  his  best  disguise, — and  it  was  nothing  else, — 
for  at  heart  he  would  have  had  no  hesitation 
to  resort  to  any  means  to  accomplish  his  sel- 
fish purposes.  But  his  cunning  was  so  well 
masked  by  fawning  civility,  that  even  the  nat- 
urally quick  perception  of  his  employer  had 
failed  to  detect  anything  wrong.  He  was  always 
at  his  post,  early  and  late  ;  he  asked  for  no 
vacations,  and  never  desired  to  absent  himself 
from  his  desk  for  more  than  one  day  at  a  time. 
This  devotion  to  business,  rendered  it  ne- 
cessary to  employ  no  permanent  assistance 
in  his  department ;  and  yet,  this  incessant 
labor,  which  he  voluntarily  performed,  was 
not,  after  all,  prompted  by  regard  for  his  em- 
ployer's interest,  as  the  sequel  will  prove ; 
and  his  oft-repeated  objections  to  the  intro- 
duction of  a  new  clerk,  and  the  systematized 
course  of  premeditated  abuse  with  which  each 
new  comer  was  always  treated,  and  which 
either  compelled  the  assistant  to  resign  or  pre- 


HEROISM  AND    INTEGRITY   REWARDED.       85 

judiced  Mr.  Wilder  so  strongly  that  he  dis- 
charged him,  will  be  accounted  for  ere  long. 

George  was  able  to  resume  his  duties  at 
the  store,  on  the  Thursday  succeeding  the 
Saturday  night  on  which  he  received  the  visit 
of  Mr.  Wilder  and  Mr.  Thomas,  and  was  wel- 
comed by  no  one  with  more  apparent  cordi- 
ality than  by  Mr.  Butler.  And  the  changed 
appearance  of  the  book-keeper  so  affected 
our  young  friend  (who  was  so  frank  himself 
as  not  to  be  able  to  detect  artfulness  in  others), 
that  in  a  letter  to  his  mother  that  very  day, 
in  which  he  rehearsed  the  incidents  of  the 
accident,  he  alluded  to  the  alteration  in  Mr. 
Butler's  manner,  and  expressed  the  hope  that 
he  should  be  able  to  conduct  himself  so  that 
it  would  always  be  as  pleasant,  and  added,  "If 
I  can  have  matters  move  just  as  they  do  now, 
I  shall  be  perfectly  satisfied,  for  I  know  my 
duty,  and  with  the  confidence  of  all  here,  I 
can  give  satisfaction," 

On  the  next  Monday  afternoon,  Mr.  Wilder 
told  George  that  he  was  going  to  have  a  few 
friends   at   his   house   that    evening,   and    he 


86  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

should  be  happy  to  see  him  about  eight 
o'clock.  The  church  clock  was  just  striking 
that  hour  as  he  pulled  the  bell-knob  of  his 
employer's  residence. 

George  had  never  been  in  society  much, 
and  when  he  had,  it  had  been  in  his  mother's 
company,  and  during  his  residence  in  the  city 
he  had  had  no  opportunities  to  improve  his 
tastes  in  that  direction,  if  even  he  possessed 
any  ;  so  when  he  was  ushered  into  the  large, 
brilliantly-lighted  parlor,  and  found  there  sev- 
eral ladies  and  gentlemen,  he  would  have 
made  a  rapid  exit,  could  he  have  done  so  with 
any  degree  of  propriety  ;  but  Mrs.  Wilder  ap- 
proached, and  her  kind  manner  reassured  him. 

An  introduction  followed,  and  he  found  him- 
self in  the  company  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barrett, 
their  daughter  Mary,  (whom  he  had  once  be- 
fore met,  but  in  rather  an  unfavorable  position 
for  the  maintenance  of  a  tete-a-t8te),  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Thomas,  and  a  few  others  whom  he  had 
never  met  before,  ^while  in  a  corner,  unob- 
served previously,  were  his  uncle  and  aunt,  Mr, 
and  Mrs.  Wood.  George  wondered  how  they 
came  to  be  there. 


HEROISM    AND   INTEGRITY   REWARDED.       8/ 

The  conversation  at  first,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  turned  upon  the  accident,  and  their 
delight  at  his  entire  restoration  to  health  ;  and 
so  many  complimentary  epithets  were  heaped 
upon  him,  that  he  was  tempted  to  cry,  "  Hold  ! 
enough  !  "  and  in  fact  did  say  that  he  had 
done  nothing  but  his  duty,  and  what  he  would 
do  again  did  necessity  call. 

Later  in  the  evening,  Mr.  Wilder  addressing 
the  whole  company,  spoke  as  follows  :  — 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen :  Less  than  a 
fortnight  ago,  as  most  of  you  are  aware,  the 
life  of  Mary  Barrett  was  in  jeopardy,  and  our 
young  friend  present,  at  the  imminent  risk  of 
his  own  life,  rescued  her,  and  in  so  doing  was 
injured,  fortunately  not  seriously,  and  his  pres- 
ence here  to-night  affords  us  an  opportunity 
of  expressing  to  him  the  esteem  in  which  he 
is  held  by  us  all.  It  is  not  my  purpose  to 
make  the  occasion  a  formal  one,  but  I  should 
defeat  the  object  of  the  interview  did  I  fail  to 
express  myself  in  a  somewhat  ceremonious 
manner. 

"  George,  the  circumstances  of  that  incident 


88  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

are  fresh  in  the  minds  of  all  present,  as  also 
the  self-sacrificing  disposition  which  prompted 
your  action  in  the  premises. 

"  The  father  of  the  miss,  has  requested  me 
to  say  to  you  in  his  behalf,  as  well  as  that  of 
her  mother,  that  he  thanks  you  from  the  bot- 
tom of  his  heart ;  and  wherever  you  are,  and 
in  whatever  circumstances,  he  shall  watch 
over  your  interests  ;  and  if  at  any  time  it  is 
in  his  power  to  assist  you,  you  must  feel  at 
perfect  liberty  to  apply  to  him.  He  also  de- 
sired me  to  say  something  else,  but  as  I  think 
he  will  do  himself  better  justice  than  would 
any  feeble  words  of  mine,  I  will  resume  my 
seat,  and  in  doing  so,  call  on  Mr.  Horace 
Barrett." 

That  gentleman,  in  response  to  the  call,  re- 
plied as  follows  : — 

"  When  I  requested  Mr.  Wilder  to  personate 
me  in  the  brief  remarks  he  has  made,  I  sup- 
posed he  would  do  it,  and  not  leave  me  in  the 
lurch  ;  but  as  it  is,  I  must  do  the  best  I  can. 
I  did  not  decline,  as  you  well  know,  because  I 
fail  to  appreciate  the  immense  debt  of  grati- 


HEROISM    AND    INTEGRITY  REWARDED,       89 

tude  I  owe  to  my  young  friend,  but  because 
my  heart  is  so  full,  that  I  feared  my  feelings 
would  overpower  me,  and  that  what  was  in- 
tended as  an  agreeable  reunion  of  friends,  (to 
welcome  one,  who,  heretofore  unknown  to  most 
of  us,  has  by  his  action  in  a  time  of  peril  so 
conducted  as  to  attach  him  deeply  to  myself 
and  those  whom  I  represent  on  this  occasion), 
would  become,  through  my  weakness,  more  a 
mournful  season  than  the  joyful  one  it  should  be. 
"  So,  without  enlarging  on  the  more  per- 
sonal features  of  the  matter,  which  I  hope  to 
have  frequent  occasion  to  refer  to  when 
George  and  I  see  each  other  alone,  I  will 
conclude  by  requesting  you,  George,  to  accept 
the  contents  of  this  sealed  envelope,  as  ex- 
pressive, in  a  feeble  degree,  of  the  heartfelt 
gratitude  which  no  act  of  mine  can  ever  re-* 
pay.  Receive  it,  not  as  a  remuneration  for 
services  rendered,  —  for  the  consciousness  of 
having  done  a  worthy  deed  is  its  own  reward, 
—  but  as  a  slight  testimonial  of  my  personal 
regard.  You  will  please  allow  it  to  remain 
sealed  until  your  arrival  at  home. 


QO  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

"  I  am  requested  by  Mrs.  Barrett  to  present 
to  you,  in  her  name,  the  accompanying  watch 
and  chain,  which  you  will  always  preserve,  not 
for  its  intrinsic  value,  but  in  memory  of  the 
donor. 

"  As  it  will  not  be  of  any  service  to  you 
unless  it  is  kept  correct,  and  therefore  to  be 
relied  on,  so  you  are  reminded  that  you  must 
always  be  correct  in  your  habits,  and  thus 
merit  and  enjoy  the  confidence  of  all  with 
whom  you  are  brought  in  contact.  As  in 
order  to  be  truthful  and  worthy  of  reliance,  the 
hands  must  always  be  at  work,  never  idle, 
so  God  never  intended  our  hands  to  be  idle, 
but  to  work  with  both  heart  and  hands  well, 
whenever  and  wherever  he  directs.  And  as  by 
reference  to  it  you  will  be  reminded  of  the 
rapid  flight  of  time,  you  and  we  all  may  ever 
feel  that  the  time  for  us  to  labor  is  short,  and 
the  day  of  life  is  fast  passing  away,  and  the 
night  of  death  will  soon  come  when  no  man 
can  work.  May  we  all  so  live,  that,  when  the 
summons  comes  to  leave  this  world,  we  may 
have  the  comforting  reflection  that  it  is  in 
some  degree  better  for  our  having  lived. 


HEROISM   AND    INTEGRITY  REWARDED.       QI 

"  I  have  now  but  a  word  to  add.  When  I 
mentioned  at  home  that  I  intended  to  make 
you  some  expression  of  regard,  Mrs.  Barrett 
warmly  seconded  my  plan,  and  Mary  very 
anxiously  wishing  to  participate,  at  the  same 
time  made  a  suggestion,  and  I  very  soon  had 
an  opportunity  to  gratify  her  desires.  Her 
idea  was,  and  we  considered  it  an  excellent 
one,  to  secure  as  a  present  to  your  good  mother, 
in  some  substantial  form,  a  picture  of  your- 
self, feeling  that  however  slight,  in  a  pecu- 
niary point  of  view,  the  offering  is,  it  will  be 
cherished  by  her  more  sacredly,  than  any  other 
token  could. 

"  To  accomplish  this  purpose,  I  induced 
your  uncle,  Mr.  Wood,  to  furnish  me  with  a 
picture  of  yourself,  which  I  have  had  copied 
in  an  enlarged  form  and  framed,  and  now 
take  pleasure  in  exhibiting  to  the  company ; 
it  shall  be  forwarded  to  your  kind  parent,  with 
an  appropriate  note. 

"  Should  I  take  my  seat  now,  Mary  would 
consider  my  message  half  unsaid,  my  duty 
but    partially    performed.      From    the    same 


92  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

source,  I  procured  a  photograph,  said  to  be  a 
striking  likeness  of  one,  George,  whom  you 
love  better  than  all  the  world  beside,  and  next 
to  your  heavenly  Father.  I  have  it  copied 
in  a  large  frame,  and  am  now  happy  to  pre- 
sent to  you  a  picture  of  your  mother,  to  be 
hung  in  your  own  room. 

"  I  know  you  will  never  look  at  it  without 
deriving  some  fresh  incentive  to  right,  and 
may  you  never  see  it  when  the  glance  it  con- 
veys may  be  a  silent  rebuke  for  any  act  com- 
mitted that  she  would  disapprove.  Long  may 
she  live  to  continue  to  set  you  the  good  ex- 
ample you  esteem  so  highly,  and  which  I  be- 
lieve you  are  endeavoring  to  follow,  and  long 
may  you  live  to  cheer  her  heart ;  and  that  you 
may  grow  up  to  be  a  useful  member  of  so- 
ciety, and  the  instrument  in  God's  hands  of 
doing  much  good,  is  the  heartfelt  prayer  of  a 
family  who  will  never  forget  you." 

The  whole  affair  of  the  presentation  was 
an  entire  surprise  to  George,  and  all  the  cir- 
cumstances combined  rendered  his  astonish- 
ment complete.     He  was  unable  to  respond  ; 


HEROISM    AND    INTEGRITY   REWARDED.       93 

but  his  uncle  came  to  his  rescue,  and  in  a  few 
words  thanked  the  generous  donors,  and  in 
behalf  of  George  accepted  the  presents,  prom- 
ising for  him  that  they  should  never  find  that 
their  confidence  had  been  misplaced. 

The  company  soon  after  adjourned  to  the 
dining-room  and  partook  of  refreshments,  then 
returned  to  the  parlor,  where  a  short  time  was 
spent  in  general  conversation,  which  placed 
George  at  his  ease  for  the  first  time  that 
night,  and  which  he  improved  in  becoming  a 
little  better  acquainted  with  the  young  lady 
he  had  met  for  the  first  time  in  Court  Street. 

As  it  was  getting  late,  the  company  soon 
dispersed  to  their  several  homes,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Wood  conveying  George  to  his  boarding- 
house  in  their  carriage. 

George  ran  up  to  his  room  (he  had  been 
furnished  with  a  small  single  room  through 
Mrs.  Rice's  kindness,  for  which  she  demanded 
but  a  small  advance),  and,  as  was  natural, 
opened  very  quickly  the  sealed  envelope  Mr. 
Barrett  had  given  him.  He  found  it  to  con- 
tain a  certificate  of  deposit  at  the   bank,  to 


94  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

the  credit  of  George  Hutchins,  for  one  thousand 
dollars !  He  could  hardly  believe  his  senses. 
He  looked  again  and  again  ;  read  it  over  and 
over.  It  was,  indeed,  so  ;  it  was  not  all  a 
dream,  as  he  had  thought  it  at  first. 

He  then  hung  his  mother's  picture  in  a 
conspicuous  place,  wound  his  watch  carefully, 
and  put  it  away  safely,  together  with  his  re- 
cently acquired  fortune  ;  then  sat  down  and 
wrote  his  mother  a  full  account  of  the  occur- 
rences of  the  evening.  After  finishing  the  let- 
ter, he  read  his  accustomed  portion  of  Scripture, 
knelt  by  his  bedside,  and  offered  a  prayer  of 
thankfulness  to  God  ;  and  placing  himself  in 
his  heavenly  Father's  keeping,  took  a  good- 
night look  at  the  sweet  face  of  his  mother, 
and  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

The  next  morning,  as  he  descended  to  the 
breakfast-table,  he  found  himself  a  Uttle  late ; 
and  as  he  passed  along  the  table  to  take  his 
usual  place,  the  chain  attached  to  his  vest 
attracted  the  attention  of  Robert  Ashley, 
who,  in  his  characteristic  way,  remarked, "  I 
guess   somebody's  feeling  pretty   grand    this 


HEROISM  AND    INTEGRITY   REWARDED.       95 

morning !  What  time  is  it  ?  Trade's  pretty 
good  this  fall,  ain't  it?" 

Of  course  all  eyes  were  directed  towards 
George,  who  bashfully  stammered  out,  "  It  is 
a  present  I  received  last  night ; "  at  the  same 
time,  drawing  it  from  his  pocket,  he  passed 
the  watch  and  chain  to  Mrs.  Rice  for  her  in- 
spection, and  that  of  the  rest.  "  It  is  a  perfect 
beauty,  O,  I  am  so  glad  !  You  well  deserve 
it."  Everybody  had  some  kind  or  congrat- 
ulatory words  to  say,  but  Robert ;  he  seemed 
to  feel  considerably  troubled  over  George's 
"streak  of  luck,"  as  he  called  it,  and  con- 
tinued in  a  strain  of  language  which  had 
the  effect  of  only  annoying  George,  while  it 
aroused  the  indignation  of  all  the  rest,  for  he 
was  a  great  favorite ;  and  so  discontented 
did  he  become,  that  he  made  no  allusion 
to  his  other  presents,  although  his  frankness 
would  have  led  him  ordinarily  to  tell  all : 
he  was  no  lover  of  secrecy. 

As  soon  as  he  found  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity to  see  Mr.  Wilder  alone,  George  asked 
his  advice   as   to  the  course  to  pursue  with 


96  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

his  recently  acquired  capital.  His  advice  was 
to  draw  the  amount  and  make  a  deposit  in  the 
Savings  Bank,  where  it  would  bear  interest ; 
allowing  the  whole  to  remain  until  he  shonld 
become  of  age.  This  suggestion  met  with 
George's  approbation,  and  they  went  that 
very  morning  and  carried  it  into  practice, 
George  receiving  a  book,  in  which  the  amount 
was  recorded. 


CHAPTER    VII. 


FIRST   VISIT    HOME. 


RS.  HUTCHINS  had  just  fin- 
ished the  letter  received  from 
her  son,  when  the  expressman 
called  with  the  package  and  letter  which 
Mr.  Barrett  had  promised  to  forward  —  a 
large-size  picture  of  George ;  and  it  was  per- 
fect. How  long  she  looked  at  it,  how  affec- 
tionately she  kissed  it,  and  how  tenderly  she 
pressed  it  to  her  bosom !  Why  did  her  eyes 
fill  with  tears  .-•  She  had  nothing  to  weep 
over  in  her  son's  conduct,  and  she  could 
have  no  anxiety  about  his  health,  for  had 
he  not  written  that  he  was  perfectly  well } 
Why  was  all  this  ?  Those  of  my  readers 
who  have  received  similar  souvenirs  from 
7  97 


98  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

loved    absent     ones,    can     answer    in     their 
hearts. 

So  long  did  she  gaze,  and  so  much  had 
she  to  say  and  think  about,  that  she  en- 
tirely forgot  the  letter  which  accompanied 
the  picture,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  say 
when  she  would  have  thought  of  it,  had  not  a 
knock  at  the  door  compelled  her  to  rise,  causing 
it  to  fall  from  her  lap  to  the  floor.  On  her 
return,  she  opened  it,  and  read  as  follow^s  :  — , 

"Boston,  November  18,  18 — ." 
"My  dear  Madam:  A  short  time 
since,  my  daughter,  in  attempting  to  cross 
a  street,  was  knocked  down  by  the  horses 
attached  to  an  omnibus,  and  would,  in  all 
probability,  have  been  killed,  but  for  the 
timely  interposition  of  your  son,  who  jumped 
forward,  and  extricated  her  from  her  dangerous 
condition,  at  the  imminent  peril  of  his  own 
life  ;  and  he  did  not  escape  injury  ;  but  thanks 
to  a  kind  Providence,  his  bruises  were  slight, 
and  we  are  all  happy  to  know  he  has  entirely 
recovered. 


FIRST    VISIT    HOME.  99 

"  It  is  entirely  out  of  the  power  of  a  parent 
to  estimate  the  value  of  such  acts  of  kindness, 
and  gold  and  silver  go  but  little  towards  liqui- 
dating such  obligations.  But  -in  addition  to 
the  warm  attachment  myself  and  family  will 
always  feel  towards  your  son,  I  have  to-day 
presented  him  with  a  check  for  a  thousand 
dollars,  Mrs.  Barrett  has  given  him  a  watch 
and  chain,  and  my  daughter  Mary  (the  saved 
one),  desiring  to  do  something,  has  procured 
the  accompanying  picture  of  George,  know- 
ing it  will  be  of  more  value  to  you  than  any 
offering  she  could  possibly  make.  Please 
accept  it,  and  with  it,  her  and  our  best  wishes 
for  your  health  and  prosperity. 

"  I  shall  always  feel  a  deep  interest  in  the 
lad,  which,  with  your  permission,  will  partake 
of  something  akin  to  a  father's  solicitude, 
without  presuming  to  exercise  a  father's 
authority.  As  he  advances  in  life,  I  may 
perhaps,  see  opportunities  of  rendering  him 
additional  service. 

"And  now,  madam,  may  God,  who  has 
for  so  many  years,  been  your  stay  and  com- 


lOO  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

fort,  and  whom  you  have  taught  George  to 
love,  honor,  and  obey,  and  who  I  feel  con- 
fident he  takes  for  his  counsellor,  and  tries 
to  live  to  serve,  be  your  portion  through  life. 

"With  the  best  wishes  for  your  future, 
and  his, 

"  I  am,  your  obedient  servant, 

"Horace  Barrett." 

She  would  have  been  more  than  human, 
if,  amid  the  falling  tears  which  accompanied 
and  concluded  the  reading  of  this  letter,  she 
had  not  experienced  an  emotion  a  very  little 
like  pride. 

The  annual  Thanksgiving  season  was  ap- 
proaching, and  Mr.  Wilder  remembered  with 
how  much  pleasurable  anticipation,  when  a 
boy,  he  always  looked  forward  to  the  time 
when  he  could  leave  his  employment,  and 
spend  a  few  days  with  his  mother,  who  long 
ago  was  called  home  to  her  reward.  So, 
early  in  the  week,  he  told  George,  that  he 
might  go  home  on  Wednesday,  spend  the 
holiday  with  his  friends,  and  return  on  the 
following  Monday. 


FIRST   VISIT   HOME.  lOI 

This  was  very  gratifying  intelligence  to 
George,  and  yet  very  unexpected,  for  his 
term  of  service  had  been  so  short  with  Mr. 
Wilder,  and  had  been  broken  up  withal  by 
his  recent  accident,  that  he  felt  that  he  was 
not  entitled  to  a  vacation.  It  would  have 
been  a  severe  trial  to  him  not  to  have 
gone,  as  he  had  never  been  away  from  his 
mother  on  that  day,  but  he  had  schooled  him- 
self to  bear  the  disappointment.  Now  he 
knew  that  he  could  go,  he  thanked  his  em- 
ployer, and  commenced  to  count  the  hours 
before  he  should  see  his  mother. 

At  last  the  day  arrived,  and  dressed  in 
his  "  Sunday  clothes,"  and  a  new  carpet-bag  in 
his  hand  (bought  for  the  occasion,  and  con- 
taining a  change  of  clothing,  and  the  picture 
of  his  mother  which  he  was  going  to  carry 
home  to  show  her),  he  arrived  at  the  railroad 
station  a  full  hour  before  the  time  for  the 
train  to  start.  He  thought  he  never  knew 
so  long  an  hour  before :  at  last  he  heard  the 
first  bell  ring,  then  another,  and  the  cars 
passed    slowly   through    the   depot,    apd    he 


102  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

was  soon  hurrying  towards  home  at  the  rate 
of  twenty  miles  an  hour. 

His  feelings  were  very  different  now  from 
those  he  experienced  some  three  months  be- 
fore, when  he  was  leaving  home  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  to  go  among  strangers ;  and 
although  he  had  met  many  kind  friends  dur- 
ing his  stay  in  Boston,  his  affections,  instead 
of  suffering  alienation,  were  more  firmly 
centred  in  that  mother  than  ever  before ; 
his  absence  from  home,  giving  him  an  op- 
portunity to  recall  attractions  that  in  a  more 
intimate  connection  he  had  failed  to  appreciate. 

At  the  proper  time  and  place,  he  exchanged 
the  cars  for  the  coach,  which,  as  is  always  the 
case  on  the  day  before  the  annual  festival, 
was  crowded,  but  they  arrived  safely  at  the 
village  square,  and  before  the  old  stage-house. 
Hastily  grasping  his  valise,  and  only  stopping 
to  say  "  How  dy'e  do "  to  a  few  he  met  of 
his  old  friends,  he  was  soon  at  the  gate,  met 
his  mother  half  way,  and  was  clasped  in 
her  arms. 

Mental    sufferings,    physical    pain,   unkind 


FIRST    VISIT    HOME.  IO3 

remarks  directed,  and  insulting  looks  be- 
stowed, were  all  healed  and  forgotten  in  that 
long,  loving  embrace ;  and  for  that  night 
at  least,  no  roof  on  earth  sheltered  a  happier 
or  more  affectionate  pair  than  "my  dear 
George,"  and  "  my  dear  mother," 

In  the  evening,  when  they  sat  down,  George 
had  to  rehearse  over  and  over  again  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  accident ;  how  he  felt  when 
he  was  taken  up  hurt ;  if  he  suffered  much 
pain  during  his  sickness ;  how  long  he  was 
confined  to  his  bed ;  with  an  exclamation  of 
"  poor  boy,"  "  dear  darling,"  "  mother's  child," 
interlarding  every  answer. 

Then  she  would  say,  "  How  you  have 
grown !  you  are  almost  a  man ! "  Then  the 
watch  had  to  be  examined ;  the  pictures 
brought  out  and  gazed  upon,  each  criticising 
and  admiring  that  of  the  other.  Then  they 
talked  of  George's  money  at  interest ;  then  she 
wanted  to  know  all  about  George's  relations  at 
the  store  ;  if  Mr.  Butler  treated  her  boy  well ; 
how  the  Wilders  and  Barretts  looked  ;  how 
large   the    little   girl   was  who   was   knocked 


I04  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

down  by  the  horses ;  and  her  expressions  of 
sympathy  with  the  parents  were  almost  as 
tender  as  if  it  had  been  her  own  child. 

All  this  time,  or  rather  times,  for  George 
had  to  answer  these  questions  over  and  over 
again,  she  would  look  him  in  the  face,  leaning 
forward,  her  spectacles  pushed  back  on  the 
top  of  her  head,  and  her  clean  white  kerchief 
pinned  just  as  George  had  always  remem- 
bered it,  with  a  round  brooch  containing 
hair  of  his  deceased  father,  and  engraved 
in  German  text,  "  In  memoriam."  That  was 
a  famous  welcome  home. 

Later  in  the  evening,  the  familiar  old  blue 
ware  fruit-dish,  heaped  up  with  some  of 
George's  favorite  Baldwins,  was  brought  out 
on  the  table,  and  at  last,  when  the  clock  told 
them  it  was  time  to  retire,  they  were  sur- 
prised, for  they  could  have  talked  till  morn- 
ing. The  old  family  Bible  was  put  on  the 
stand,  and  together,  as  of  yore,  they  knelt 
in  prayer.  The  clause  in  the  Governor's 
proclamation  counselling  a  feeling  of  grati- 
tude at  thanksgiving  season,  was  superfluous 
so  f^  as  this  family  was  concerned. 


FIRST    VISIT    HOME.  IO5 

The  next  day  was  Thanksgiving  Day,  and 
the  principal  event,  the  dinner,  passed  off 
as  usual  on  such  occasions,  with  the  same 
amount  of  eating  and  drinking.  George 
thought  the  turkey  tasted  better  than  any 
he  had  ever  eaten,  and  the  pudding  and 
mince  pies  he  would  have  known  anywhere 
were  "  made  by  mother."  O,  if  he  could  only 
have  mother's  table  to  sit  down  to  always. 
"  This  is  the  first  good  meal  I  have  had  since 
I  left  home,"  he  said.  Taken  for  all  in  all, 
this  was  the  happiest  Thanksgiving  Day 
either  of  them  had  ever  passed. 

So  engaged  in  each  other's  society  were 
they,  that  George  did  not  leave  his  mother's 
house  until  Friday  morning.  After  break- 
fast he  started  out  for  a  walk,  and  to  see 
Henry  Clement.  It  was  a  matter  of  surprise 
to  him  that  Henry  had  not  called,  as  he  had 
probably  heard  of  his  returne,  but  perhaps 
he  was  ill. 

He  was  doomed  to  disappointment  in  the 
reception  he  met,  the  sights  he  saw,  and  the 
news  he  heard.     Entering   the  kitchen  door, 


106  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

as  had  been  his  custom,  and  finding  no  one, 
he  passed  into  the  dining-room ;  and  over- 
heard suppressed  conversation  interspersed 
with  half  stifled  sobs.  Having  advanced  too 
far  to  retreat  honorably,  he  knocked,  and 
Henry  immediately  came,  out,  closing  the 
door  after  him.  His  eyes  were  swollen  with 
weeping.  The  meeting  was  as  cordial  on  the 
part  of  both  as  could  have  been  desired,  but 
the  difference  in  their  feelings  was  world  wide. 
They  left  the  house  together,  when  George 
broke  -  the  silence  by  the  inquiry,  "  What  is 
the  matter,  Henry?" 

"  O,  George,  we  are  ruined.  Father  says 
he  is  a  bankrupt,  and  we  are  ruined,  we  are 
ruined  ! " 

Then,  in  a  desultory  way  he  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  informing  George  that  the  banker 
with  whom  his  father  had  always  done 
business,  had  become  a  defaulter,  and  ab- 
sconded, bringing  Mr.  Clement  to  a  condition 
of  abject  poverty;  and  that  they  would  be 
obliged  to  give  up  all  they  had  to  their  cred- 
itors, leave  their  house  and  farm,  to  go,  they 
knew  not  where. 


FIRST   VISIT   HOME.  lO/ 

Sympathy,  in  its  place,  is  excellent,  but 
sympathy  does  not  repair  damages ;  and 
though  George's  noble  heart  ached  for  his 
friend,  it  was  out  of  his  power  to  render 
any  assistance,  and  the  sad  impression  it 
left  on  his  mind  was  long  in  becoming 
thoroughly  effaced. 

The  rest  of  the  week,  Friday  and  Satur- 
day, he  spent  in  visiting  his  friends,  in  some 
instances  accompanied  by  his  mother. 

At  last,  the  Sabbath  came,  the  day  of  all 
the  rest  he  had  been  anticipating,  and,  with 
his  mother,  he  entered  the  familiar  old  house 
of  prayer.  How  natural  all  seemed  to  him ! 
The  audience  more  homespun  in  attire,  were 
more  devotional  in  manner  than  some  he  had 
observed  in  his  city  church  ;  while  the  sermon 
of  the  good  old  pastor,  although  it  would 
have  been  called  less  eloquent  than  the 
efforts  of  some  of  the  better  educated  clergy- 
men in  the  metropolis,  had  the  effect  to  fix 
the  attention  and  soften  the  heart,  and  was, 
what  may  not  perhaps  always  be  said  of 
some  sermons,  within  their  comprehension. 


I08  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

But  it  was  in  the  Sabbath  school  that  he 
felt  the  most  at  home.  His  teacher  and 
all  his  old  companions  were  in  their  places, 
just  as  they  used  to  sit  when  he  was  a  reg- 
ular attendant,  and  he  occupied  his  ac- 
customed seat  in  the  corner.  And  that 
teacher,  —  why,  it  seemed  to  him  that,  next 
to  his  mother,  he  loved  him  better  than  any 
one  else  on  earth.  He  it  was  to  whom 
George  had  applied  for  counsel  when  he 
first  felt  himself  a  sinner,  and  it  was  his 
remark,  that  he  can  never  forget,  "give 
yourself  unreservedly  to  Christ."  How  those 
words  rang  in  his  ears  that  night !  —  it  was 
just  about  a  year  ago ;  —  they  continued  to 
ring  until  he  reached  his  little  chamber,  when, 
throwing  himself  on  his  knees,  he  said,  "  Take 
me.  Lord,  just  as  I  am  ; "  and  peace  flowed 
in  on  his  soul. 

Yes,  everything  seemed  to  remind  him 
of  the  goodness  of  God;  and  yet  it  was  re- 
served for  that  evening  prayer-meeting  to 
fill  his  heart  with  love  to  his  Saviour,  as  he 
knelt  in  that  little  gathering,  and  united 
his  voice  with  theirs,  in  praise  and  adoration. 


FIRST   VISIT    HOME.  lOQ 

There  were  not  many  there ;  but  the 
presence  of  God,  promised  to  two  or  three 
gathering  together  in  his  name,  was  vouch- 
safed to  that  Httle  company.  Henry  Clem- 
ent was  there,  but  George  had  no  oppor- 
tunity to  say  a  word  to  him,  as  there  were 
so  many  others  present  from  a  distance  who 
would  not  probably  have  another  opportunity 
to  see  him  for  a  long  time,  and  all  wanted 
to  say  one  word  to  him,  or  at  least  shake  his 
hand.  Henry's  presence  did  not  surprise 
George ;  for  although  he  had  not  usually 
attended  the  evening  meetings,  it  was  not 
strange  that  he  should  have  come  on  this 
occasion,  perhaps  from  motives  of  curiosity, 
for  he  knew  George  would  be  there. 

George  and  his  mother  had  an  unusually 
interesting  and  solemn  devotional  circle  that 
night  —  his  last  night  —  the  last  for  nearly 
a  year ;  for  he  had  no  reason  to  expect 
another  vacation  until  the  summer. 

Early  the  next  morning,  as  George  and 
his  mother  were  at  the  breakfast-table,  saying 
their  farewell  words,  Henry  came  in,  calmer, 


no  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

apparently,  than  when  they  met  on  Friday, 
but  still  he  looked  sad.  He  desired  to  see 
George  alone  for  a  moment,  and  they  together 
walked  into  the  garden.  "George,  do  you 
remember  the  Sunday  before  you  left  to  go 
to  Boston,  that  you  told  me  that  you  wished 
I  was  a  Christian,  and  asked  me  to  promise 
you  that  I  would  give  my  heart  to  God  .■'  " 

"I  do,"  replied  George,  distinctly. 

"Well,  George,  those  words  have  been  in 
my  mind  ever  since,  and  whatever  I  would 
do,  whether  it  was  work  or  pleasure,  they 
would  come  up  before  me.  If  it  was  pleas- 
ure, I  would  try  to  drive  off  the  feeling,  but 
to  no  purpose ;  then  I  would  promise  myself 
that  I  would  do  as  you  requested,  but  some- 
thing else  would  intervene,  and  I  would  set 
another  time ;  but  our  late  trouble  has  now 
decided  me.  I  am  determined  to  live,  from 
this  moment,  a  different  life.  I  feel  myself 
a  sinner,  and  am  now  prepared  to  give  my 
heart  to  God.  Will  he  accept  me  }  Will  you 
pray  for  me  ? " 

George's  reply  was  in  action,  not  in  words. 


FIRST   VISIT   HOME.  Ill 

for  he  silently  drew  Henry's  arm  through  his, 
and  they  sought  that  familiar  chamber  —  fa- 
miliar to  both  boys ;  there  they  had  sat, 
talked,  and  played  together ;  and  especially 
familiar  to  George,  for  there  he  had  conse- 
crated himself  to  God,  and  had  enjoyed 
many  a  rich  season  of  communion  with 
Heaven  there. 

Kneeling  down,  George,  in  a  fervent  pe- 
tition, asked  God  for  Christ's  sake  to  accept 
the  penitent  one.  Henry  followed  him, 
broken  down  with  emotion,  and  plead  with 
Heaven  for  acceptance,  acknowledging  his 
past  remissness,  and  crying,  "  God  be  merci- 
ful to  me  a  sinner ! "  when  almost  in  the  same 
breath,  he  was  able  to  burst  out  in  a  prayer 
of  thanksgiving  for  redeeming  grace.  It  was 
reserved  to  George,  as  his  last  happiest  mo- 
ment during  his  whole  stay  at  home,  to  know 
that  his  dear  young  friend  was  now  his  com- 
panion heavenward. 

Descending  to  Mrs.  Hutchins's  presence, 
George  was  obliged  to  leave  his  now  rejoi- 
cing associate  in  his  mother's  care,  and  hastily 
prepared  for  his  return. 


112  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

The  hour  for  his  departure  at  last  came, 
and  after  their  words  of  farewell  had  been  ■ 
repeated  several  times,  George  took  his  seat 
in  the  stage,  waved  a  kiss  to  his  mother, 
promised  to  write  her  and  Henry  soon,  and 
was  driven  rapidly  away. 

He  presented  himself  at  the  store  the  next 
day,  refreshed  in  body  and  mind  for  the 
few  days  of  relaxation  he  had  enjoyed,  and 
for  the  blessed  incident  with  which  his  trip 
concluded,  and  entered  with  renewed  zeal 
into  his  daily  routine  of  duty. 

Mr.  Butler,  the  ,only  one  whom  he  seemed 
to  fear,  still  preserved  the  show  of  good  feeling 
he  had  so  suddenly  assumed  a  few  days  after 
the  accident,  while  Mr.  Wilder  asked  him 
about  his  mother's  health,  and  how  he  had 
enjoyed  himself,  hoped  he  would  not  be  home- 
sick, &c.,  to  all  of  which  George  gave  appro- 
priate replies,  and  then  told  Mr.  Wilder  of  the 
conversion  of  his  friend  as  being  the  pleas- 
antest  episode  of  the  whole  trip. 


CHAPTER    VIII, 


A    ROBBERY   AND    AN    ARREST. 


EORGE'S  history  during  his  stay  in 
Boston  had  been  an  eventful  one  ; 
but  for  several  weeks  after  his  re- 
turn, nothing  occurred  to  disturb  his  equa- 
nimity, until  one  morning,  on  rising  to  dress, 
he  looked  for  his  watch  and  chain,  and  lo  ! 
they  were  gone.  He  remembered  distinctly 
putting  them  in  their  accustomed  place  (in  a 
case  presented  by  his  mother,  and  which  he 
kept  hanging  by  the  side  of  his  looking-glass), 
when  he  was  preparing  to  retire  ;  and  where 
could  they  have  gone  ?  when  could  they 
have  gone  ?  and  by  whose  hands  ? 

Throwing  on  his  clothes,  he  ran  down  stairs 
to  tell  Mrs.  Rice,  and  ask  if  anything  else  had 
8  113 


114  "^^^  BOSTON   BOY. 

been  taken  from  the  house.  They  made  a 
search,  and  to  their  astonishment  found  the 
box  containing  silver  had  been  broken  open, 
and  all  the  pieces  from  one  of  the  apartments, 
the  most  valuable,  were  gone. 

Now  what  was  to  be  done  ?  They  ex- 
amined the  front  door,  the  back  door,  the 
windows,  but  no  clue  to  the  ingress  or  egress 
of  the  burglar  could  be  found.  They  looked 
at  each  other.  Many  were  the  suggestions, 
and  many  the  inquiries,  but  all  resulted  in 
nothing ;  they  simply  knew  that  they  had 
been  robbed.  The  breakfast  that  morning  was 
partaken  of  by  few  of  that  party,  with  relish. 

George  was  almost  crazy.  "  If  it  had  been 
anytbing  but  my  present,"  he  thought.  He, 
•however,  after  a  more  diligent  search  in  places 
where  he  would  never  have  dreamed  of  put- 
ting it,  concluded  to  go  to  the  store,  tell  Mr. 
Wilder,  and  act  on  his  advice.  How  impa- 
tient he  was,  till  that  gentleman  came.  He 
did  not  tell  Mr.  Butler  ;  he  was  going  to,  but 
he  could  not  face  that  cold  sarcasm  with 
which  he  felt  sure  the  news  would  be  received. 


A    ROBBERY    AND    AN    ARREST,  II5 

By  and  by,  Mr.  Wilder  came  in,  and  George 
told  him.  His  reply  was,  "  Your  first  duty  is 
to  notify  the  police  force,"  and  offered  to  ac- 
company him  to  the  office  of  the  Chief  of 
Police,  and  a  detective  was  detailed  to  "  work 
"up  the  case." 

The  officer  first  examined  the  premises  where 
the  robbery  was  committed,  thoroughly  ;  then, 
without  expressing  an  opinion  to  any  one, 
turned  to  Mrs.  Rice  and  George,  and  asked 
them  if  they  suspected  any  one.  They  both 
replied  that  they  most  certainly  did  not.  He 
took  from  Mrs.  Rice  a  full  description  of  the 
missing  silver  ware,  and  then  turning  to 
George,  asked  him  where  he  got  the  watch. 
George  replied  that  it  was  a  present  from  Mr. 
Horace  Barrett,  giving  the  officer  that  gen- 
tleman's residence. 

"  Did  you  take  a  memorandum,  or  do  you 
know  the  number  of  the  watch,  or  any  descrip- 
tion of  the  property  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Was  it  new  or  second-hand  ? " 

"  A  new  one,  sir." 


Il6  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

"  Show  me  where  Mr.  Barrett  lives  ; "  and 
George  pointed  the  way,  accompanying  the 
officer. 

Of  course  Mr.  Barrett  felt  badly,  but  it  was 
through  sympathy  for  George,  as  he  had  been 
guilty  of  no  carelessness ;  and  if  he  had,  he 
was  suffering  so  intensely  that  no  one  could 
have  a  heart  to  criminate  him. 

The  detective  inquired  of  Mr.  Barrett  if  he 
had  a  memorandum  of  the  number  of  the 
watch,  or  any  peculiarities  about  it ;  he 
had  neglected  this  precaution,  but  went  with 
his  two  visitors  at  once  to  the  place  where 
the  articles  were  purchased,  and  from  the 
jeweller  received  all  the  information  desired, 
which  the  officer  noted  down  on  his  mem- 
orandum-book and  departed,  promising  to  use 
every  exertion  in  his  power  to  secure  the 
restoration  of  the  property,  but  without  en- 
lightening them  in  any  way  as  to  his  proposed 
plan.  The  whole  matter  being  left  in  safe 
hands,  the  trio  separated,  each  to  his  respec- 
tive pursuits. 

George  tried  to  fix  his  mind  on  his  duties, 


A  ROBDERY  AND  AN  \RREST,      11/ 

but  it  was  impossible  ;  and  his  frequent  errors 
and  absent-mindedness  drew  upon  him  as  fre- 
quently the  severe  reprimands  of  Mr.  Butler, 
who  seemed  to  be  delighted  to  have  an  ex- 
cuse for  exercising  his  authority,  which  he  did 
effectually,  winding  up  the  morning  by  threat- 
ening to  apprise  Mr.  Wilder  of  his  carelessness 
and  neglect. 

The  dinner  hour,  which  was  usually  an  oc- 
casion of  recreation,  failed  to  accomplish  its 
accustomed  purpose  this  day,  and  George  re- 
turned to  the  store  more  unfitted  for  labor 
than  he  was  before.  Mr.  Butler,  however,  it 
would  seem,  had  recuperated  his  faculties,  and 
he  came  back  more  irascible  than  before,  and 
berated  George  so  earnestly  and  loudly,  that 
it  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr.  Wilder,  and 
caused  him  to  leave  his  office  to  inquire  into 
the  cause. 

"  Mr.  Butler,"  said  he,  "  I  have  noticed  to- 
day that  you  have  spoken  repeatedly  in  a 
harsh  manner  to  George,  as  if  he  was  neg- 
lecting his  business  or  committing  a  good 
many  errors.     What  is  the  difficulty  > " 


Il8  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

"  Well,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Butler,  hesitatingly, 
"  George  is  quite  unlike  himself  to-day.  He 
has  made  many  errors  and  blots  on  his  work, 
which  ordinarily  he  is  quite  free  from." 

George  could  hear  no  more  ;  he  had  forti- 
fied himself  to  the  utmost,  but  his  nerves 
could  bear  nothing  further.  He  burst  into 
tears,  and  attempted  to  leave  the  counting- 
room. 

"  You  may  go  to  my  room,  George,"  said 
Mr.  Wilder.  Then  to  Mr.  Butler,  "  I  suppose 
you  heard  of  George's  misfortune  this  morn- 
mg. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  heard  something  of  it,  but 
nothing  direct." 

"  And  yet,  with  all  this  sorrow  on  his  mind, 
you  refuse  to  lighten  his  labor  by  at  least 
kind  words  !  I  am  surprised  ;  this  has  been 
a  serious  loss  to  him  ;  it  would  be  to  any  one  ; 
but  his  loss  is  aggravated,  not  by  the  pecuniary 
value  of  the  missing  articles,  but  from  the  fact 
that  they  were  presented  to  him,  and  the 
donation  was  richly  deserved.  For  my  part, 
I   feel   deeply   grieved   for   him,  and   am   de- 


A    ROBBERY    AND    AN    ARREST.  I  I9 

termined  to  take  every  measure  in  my  power 
to  secure  the  recovery  of  the  property  and 
apprehension  of  the  thief,  let  it  cost  what  it 
may.  I  regret  to  be  obliged  to  speak  to  you 
in  this  manner,  particularly  to  be  forced  to 
allude  to  it  in  his  presence,  but  I  could  bear 
it  no  longer.  I  shall  expect  a  different  course 
in  the  future." 

Mr.  Butler  addressed  Mr.  Wilder  as  he  was 
leaving,  and  said,  "  I  acknowledge,  sir,  that  I 
was  hasty,  but  I  was  anxious  to  have  this 
particular  work  done  neatly,  and  was  perhaps 
too  exacting  under  the  circumstances.  I  will 
endeavor  to  be  more  thoughtful  in  future,  but 
it  makes  me  excessively  nervous  to  have  work 
done  carelessly."  As  Mr.  Wilder  left,  a  ma- 
licious smile  lighted  up  Mr.  Butler's  features, 
and  remained  long  enough  to  exhibit  sufficient 
venom  to  have  ruined  the  boy,  if  possible ; 
and  we  have  no  doubt  he  will  try. 

The  next  day,  George  was  in  a  calmer 
frame  of  mind,  and  Mr.  Butler,  from  motives 
of  policy,  more  lenient.  Mr.  Barrett  called  in, 
and  had  an  interview  with  Mr.  Wiloler  on  thp 


120  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

subject  of  the  robbery,  and  they  both  ex- 
pressed their  determination  to  ferret  out  the 
affair.  George  wanted  to  go  to  the  poHce 
office  at  once,  and  inquire  what  had  been 
done,  but  was  dissuaded,  as  they  told  him 
that  the  officer  understood  his  business 
thoroughly,  and  would  notify  them  as  soon 
as  he  had  anything  to  communicate.  And  they 
had  not  long  to  wait ;  for  on  the  fourth  day, 
a  note  came  to  the  store,  requesting  George 
to  call  at  the  office  at  once,  which  he  did,  ac- 
companied again  by  Mr.  Wilder.  On  seeing 
his  visitors,  the  detective  put  on  his  coat  and 
hat,  and  they  all  proceeded  to  the  shop  of  a 
pawnbroker,  and  entering,  the  officer  asked  to 
see  the  watch  he  had  been  talking  about  that 
morning.  This  was  produced,  and  George 
involuntarily  screamed  out,  — 

"  O,  it's  mine  !  it  is  mine  ; "  and  wanted  to 
take  it  at  once. 

"  Don't  be  in  a  hurry,  my  friend,"  said  the 
officer  ;  "  you've  got  all  you  want,  perhaps,  but 
I  haven't."  Then  handing  the  watch  and 
chain  back  to  the  Jew,  he  beckoned  them  out. 


A    ROBBERY    AND    AN    ARREST.  121 

"  But  I  want  my  watchl'  said  George,  on 
reaching  the  street. 

"  You  shall  have  it  in  good  time  ;  but  I  want 
the  thief.' 

"  And  do  you  think  you  shall  be  able  to 
secure  him  }  "  asked  Mr.  Wilder. 

"  Without  doubt.  It  appears  that  he  has 
pawned  it  in  this  shop,  and  received  an  ad- 
vance on  it  and  the  chain,  saying'  that  he 
wanted  the  money  for  only  a  day  or  two,  and 
promising  to  call  in  to-morrow  and  redeem  it. 
He  is  to  call  at  eleven ;  I  shall  arrest  him, 
and  you  will  then  have  the  gratification  of 
seeing  him  behind  the  grates." 

"  O,  that  would  be  no  gratification  to  me," 
said  George.  "  If  I  can  only  get  my  property, 
and  Mrs.  Rice  get  hers,  I  am  sure  I  shall  not 
want  to  have  him  punished,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve s/ie  will." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  detective,  "  if  we  were  all 
as  tender-hearted  as  you  are,  youngster,  what 
would  become  of  justice  f " 

Mr.  Wilder  smiled,  as  he  said,  "  If  the  thieves 
were  not  punished,  George,  it  would  be  offer- 
ing a  premium  for  crime." 


122  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  the  officer 
came  in,  and  told  them  that  if  they  wanted  to, 
they  could  go  to  the  station-house  and  see 
the  thief,  as  he  had  just  locked  him  up. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  what's  his  name  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  detective ;  "  it  is 
on  our  books  at  the  station  as  he  £-ave  it,  but 
I  take  but  little  notice  of  the  names  we 
get  from  such  chaps.  They  don't  hold  to 
their  mothers'  names  long  after  they  com- 
mence to  nab  things." 

They  entered  the  station,  and  were  con- 
ducted through  a  hall  down  into  the  base- 
ment, which  was  dimly  lighted  ;  they  passed 
by  a  row  of  cells  all  unoccupied,  until  the 
officer  halted  in  front  of  one,  and  as  soon  as 
they  could  see  distinctly  (for  coming  from  the 
sunlight  into  the  dark  room  it  was  some 
little  time  before  objects  could  readily  be  dis- 
tinguished), George  gasped  out,  "  O !  Robert 
Ashley  !  "  and  then  could  say  no  more. 

He  had  never  entertained  a  high  opinion 
of  Robert's  morality,  but  the  thought  had 
never  entered  his  mind  that  he  was  a  thief 


A   ROBBERY   AND   AN   ARREST,  12$ 

"Well,  young  man,  you're  caged  at  last," 
said  the  detective  to  Robert.  "  You  got  off 
so  easy  before,  you  thought  you'd  try  it  once 
more,  did  you  ? "  Then  turning  to  Mr.  Wil- 
der, the  officer  said,  "  He  and  two  others  were 
arrested  a  little  less  than  a  year  ago,  for  com- 
plicity in  breaking  and  entering  a  store,  but 
it  could  not  be  proved  against  him,  and  he 
was  discharged,  and  the  other  two  are  in  the 
House  of  Correction,  serving  out  their  sen- 
tences. Well,  he  will  be  brought  before  the 
court  to-morrow,  and  you  two  will  be  wanted 
to  appear  against  him." 

"  What  are  you  trembling  so  for,  and  look- 
ing so  sad,"  inquired  the  officer  of  George. 
"  You're  not  sorry  you've  found  your  property, 
are  you  ?  or  is  this  place  disagreeable  to  you } 
I  presume  you  rarely  visit  station-houses." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  find  in  this  young  man  one 
of  my  fellow-boarders,"  replied  George,  "  and 
he  was  for  some  time  my  room-mate.  I  hope, 
sir,  you  will  not  do  anything  to  him ;  I  am 
sure  I  forgive  him.  He  won't  do  so  again, 
will  you,  Robert  ? " 


124  "^^^^  BOSTON  BOY. 

Robert  had  all  this  time  preserved  an  ap- 
pearance of  stoicism,  and  simply  stared  at  his 
visitors  with  an  impertinent  gaze  ;  but  when 
George  spoke  so  kindly,  it  broke  his  spirit. 
He  could  bear  ill  usage,  but  sympathy  and 
forgiveness  never.  He  turned  his  eyes  full 
on  George's  face,  and  replied,  "  George,  can 
you,  will  you  forgive  me  ?  I  needed  the  money, 
and  I  didn't  know  what  else  to  do.  I  was 
going  to  get  your  watch  back  to  you.  I  am, 
indeed,  very  sorry.     Will  you  forgive  me  ? " 

"  Yes,  Robert,  I  do  freely  ;  and  will  do  what 
I  can  for  you." 

The  oflficer  then  told  them,  aside,  that 
Robert  would  have  to  be  brought  before  the 
court ;  then,  if  they  chose  to  bring  any  influ- 
ence, it  could  be  exerted  in  his  behalf  He 
continued :  "  He  has  promised  to  tell  me  all 
about  the  balance  of  the  property ;  and  if  he 
does,  and  it  is  recovered,  it  will  be  all  in  his 
favor." 

Mr.  Wilder  had  not  noticed  the  boy  suffi- 
ciently to  identify  him  as  the  one  who  brought 
the  message  to  his  store  at  the  time  George 


A    ROBBERY    AND    AN    ARREST.  125 

was  hurt,  but  when  he  did  recognize  him,  he 
was  not  so  surprised  as  George  had  been,  for 
his  countenance  had  struck  him  then,  as  in- 
dicating capabiUties  to  do  almost  anything 
bad,  and  he  was  very  happy  to  know  that 
George  had  changed  his  room,  and  been  so 
much  rid  of  his  company. 

They  left  the  station-house,  promising  to 
be  at  the  court  at  ten  o'clock  the  next  day, 
and  the  officer  remained  to  get  from  Robert 
what  additional  information  he  could  on  the 
subject  of  the  silver  ware. 

"  Can't  we  save  him  from  punishment,  Mr. 
Wilder .? " 

"  I  presume  we  could  influence  the  case 
somewhat,  if  it  were  proper  to  do  so  ;  but 
is  it  ? " 

"  O,  yes,  sir  ;  he  is  not  a  bad  boy  at  heart ; 
and  his  father,  a  master  of  a  vessel,  is  at  sea 
now,  and  he  has  not  had  a  good  mother's 
counsel  as  I  have  ;  he  lost  his  mother,  when 
he  was  quite  young." 

"  Well,-  George,  I  like  your  forgiving  spirit ; 
but  if  criminals  were  all  pardoned,  we  should 


126  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

none  of  us  be  safe ;  and  property  and  life 
would  be  valueless.  Still  I  am  disposed  in 
all  cases  to  temper  justice  with  mercy,  pro- 
vided there  is  hope  for  reformation ;  but  I 
rather  think,  when  you  have  had  as  long  an 
experience  as  I  have,  you  will  have  outgr(5wn 
a  part  of  your  —  what  shall  I  call  it  ?  Chick- 
en-heartedness  ? "  said  he,  smiling.  "  Well,  I 
won't  annoy  you  any  more.  Seriously  speak- 
ing, I  don't  wonder  that  you  are  interested  for 
the  boy  ;  it  is  natural  to  have  a  regard  for 
those  with  whom  we  have  labored  for  good 
and  tried  to  improve,  and  I  believe  you  have 
tried  to  benefit  Robert,  have  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  tried  to  do  my  duty,  sir ;  but  he  opposed 
my  efforts  so  strongly  that  I  was  obliged  to 
relinquish  them." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Wilder,  as  they  were  now 
entering  the  store,  "  we  will  go  to  the  court 
to-morrow,  and  see  what  can  be  done." 

The  little  family  at  Mrs.  Rice's,  were  aston- 
ished at  the  intelligence  brought,  when  George 
went  home  to  tea,  for  the  absence  from  din- 
ner of  Robert  had  created  no  remark,  as  fre- 


A    ROBBERY    AND    AN    ARREST.  12/ 

quently  his  business  detained  him,  and  in 
.  such  cases,  he  took  his  dinner  at  a  restaurant. 
The  affair  formed  the  general  topic  of  conver- 
sation, for  it  is  true  that  not  one  of  the  whole 
household  had  the  least  suspicion  of  Robert. 
Mrs.  Rice  was  delighted  in  the  hope  of  re- 
covering her  silver  ware,  and  as  for  George, 
if  he  could  have  known  that  Robert  would 
escape  punishment,  he  would  have  been  per- 
fectly satisfied  ;  kind-hearted  boy  that  he  was. 
As  it  was,  after  his  return  from  the  Com- 
mercial College,  and  he  took  his  light  to  go 
to  bed,  it  was  not  to  sleep  ;  and  it  was  past 
midnight  before  he  secured  the  rest  his  ner- 
vous system  so  much  needed.  He  slept  at 
last,  but  it  was  to  dream  of  jails  and  station- 
houses.  Once  he  saw  Robert  on  trial,  and 
heard  him  make  a  heart-breaking  appeal  for 
mercy  ;  this  started  him,  and  he  awoke  in  a 
profuse  perspiration.  After  such  a  night,  it 
is  no  wonder  that  he  arose  little  refreshed ; 
and  his  condition  was  not  improved  as  he 
reflected  on  the  trying  scenes  he  would  be 
obliged  to  pass  through  that  day. 


N  ^  r'-rj-  ^«-<^-^r=---C--^<*^  <VL4,g^^^,U^-i> 


CHAPTER    IX. 


THE   TRIAL. 


T  ten  o'clock,  (the  hour  for  opening 
the  court),  there  were  present  a 
large  number  of  persons  ;  some  as 
witnesses  to  testify  for  or  against  some  poor 
criminal ;  others  had  come  prepared  to  pay 
the  fines  and  costs  the  judge  might  impose 
on  their  unfortunate  friends  ;  others  to  volun- 
teer as  bondsmen,  and  by  their  aid  purchase 
a  little  more  freedom  for  their  unlucky  com- 
panions until  they  should  have  a  trial  at  some 
future  time ;  while  there  were  many  more, 
who  came  simply  as  spectators,  having  no- 
where else  to  go. 

The  court-room  was  crowded  ;  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  the  party  interested  in  the 

128 


THE    TRIAL.  1 29 

larceny  from  Mrs.  Rice's  boarding-house,  could 
procure  seats.  Presently  the  judge  entered, 
solemn  and  dignified.  George  looked  at  him 
earnestly.  His  appearance  did  not  betoken 
much  of  mercy,  however  much  of  justice  there 
might  be  in  his  heart.  The  crier,  in  a  mo- 
notonous tone,  announced  the  court  open  for 
business,  and  the  clerk  took  a  huge  pile  of 
complaints  from  a  tin  case  before  him,  and  in 
a  rapid,  almost  inarticulate  tone,  called  out 
the  names  of  parties  arrested  for  minor  of- 
fences. One  after  another  was  called  for 
drunkenness,  as  follows :  To  the  prisoner : 
"  You  are  complained  of  for  getting  drunk ; 
are  you  guilty  or  not  guilty  .-■ "  "  Guilty." 
"  The  court  orders  you  to  pay  a  fine  of  three 
dollars  and  costs,  and  stand  committed  to  the 
House  of  Industry  till  paid."  There  were 
several  of  such  cases,  and  at  last  there  were 
brought  in  men,  women,  and  children,  charged 
with  various  other  oifences,  such  as  assault 
and  battery,  vagrancy,  violations  of  sundry 
city  ordinances,  &c.  These  were  examined, 
9 


130  THE   BOSTON   BOY, 

and  acquitted  or  convicted,  as  the  facts  de- 
veloped innocence  or  guilt. 

All  this  occupied  considerable  time,  and 
was  very  tedious  to  George,  to  whom  the 
scenes  were  anything  but  agreeable,  and  Rob- 
ert's position  quite  as  much -a  cause  of  anxiety 
to  the  former,  as  to  the  latter  ;  and  sometimes 
he  would  feel  as  if  he  hoped  Robert  had 
escaped  (provided  he  could  get  his  watch  and 
chain,  and  Mrs.  Rice  her  property) ;  then  the 
thought  of  what  Mr.  Wilder  had  said  about 
justice  came  into  his  mind,  and  he  knew  it 
must  be  wrong  to  feel  so,  yet  he  could  not  ex- 
actly see  how :  but  at  last  the  time  came. 

"  Robert  Ashley,  you  are  charged  with  the 
larceny  of  a  watch  and  chain  valued  at  two 
hundred  dollars,  property  of  one  George 
Hutchins,  and  sundry  pieces  of  silver  ware, 
value  unknown,  the  property  of  one  Mary 
Rice,  from  the  house  of  the  latter.  Are  you 
guilty  or  not  guilty  ? " 

"  Guilty,"  replied  Robert,  without  lifting  his 
eyes  ;  and  he  looked  the  picture  of  despair,  his 
face  unwashed,  his  hair  uncombed,  his  linen 


THE   TRIAL.  I3I 

soiled,  and  altogether  presented  such  an  ap- 
pearance of  misery  that  George  was  well  nigh 
unmanned  before  a  word  was  spoken. 

"  What  are  the  circumstances  of  this  case," 
asked  the  judge.  "  Let  the  witnesses  be 
called,  if  there  are  any ;  if  not,  let  me  see 
the  officer." 

"  Witnesses  in  this  case  come  forward  and 
be  sworn,  called  the  clerk  :  Hutchins,  Rice, 
and  others  ;  also  the  officer."  The  officer,  as 
he  advanced,  had  George's  watch  and  chain  in 
one  hand,  and,  to  Mrs.  Rice's  delight,  the 
package  of  silver  in  the  other.  These  he  laid 
down  in  full  view  of  the  court  and  the  wit- 
nesses, and  took  his  position  with  the  others 
to  take  the  oath. 

They  all  stood,  raised  their  right  hands,  and 
swore  that  by  the  help  of  God  they  would  tell 
"  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but 
the  truth."  """^  ~ 

"  George  Hutchins,  take  the  stand,  and  tell 
what  you  know  about  this  case,"  said  the 
judge. 

It  was  George's  first  appearance  in  a  court- 


132 


THE   BOSTON   BOY. 


room,  and  his  manner  was  at  first  nervous  ; 
but  as  he  progressed  in  his  simple  recital,  he 
recovered  his  composure,  his  frank  open  man- 
ner returned,  and  no  one  would  have  doubted 
his  story,  even  if  no  obligation  to  truthfulness 
had  been  imposed.  He  identified  the  watch 
and  chain  as  his  ;  and,  in  concluding  his  nar- 
rative, volunteered,  in  his  peculiarly  winning, 
almost  child-like  way,  a  word  of  intercession 
for  the  unhappy  lad,  but  was  checked  by  the 
judge,  who  informed  him  that  the  time  had 
not  then  arrived  for  defence  or  palliation,  his 
first  object  being  to  ascertain  facts  and  par- 
ticulars ;  afterwards  he  could  be  heard  in  miti- 
gation, if  he  desired. 

Mrs.  Rice  testified  that  Robert  Ashley  had 
been  brought,  about  eleven  months  before,  by 
his  father,  now  absent  at  sea,  to  her  house  for 
board  ;  that  his  father's  story  of  the  loneliness 
of  his  son's  condition,  he  being  motherless, 
and  his  desire  that  he  might  be  surrounded  as 
much  as  possible  by  home  influences,  touched 
her  heart ;  and  although  Robert  had  been  rep- 
resented as  a  very  mischievous  boy,  she  finally 


THE   TRIAL.  133 

consented    to    accommodate    him    until    his 
father's   return ;    that    although    Robert   had 
fully  corroborated  his  father's  statement  of  his 
mischievousness,  she  had  never  suspected  him 
of  crime,  and  was  very  much  astonished  when 
forced  to  believe  it  of  him.     She  informed  the 
judge  that  she  had  placed  the  silver  ware  the 
night  previous  to  the  discovery  of  the  robbery, 
in  its  usual  depository  in  a  tin  box,  —  always 
making  two  packages,  one  of  solid  silver,  such 
as  was  taken,  and  the  other  plated  ware.     On 
the   morning   George    missed   his   watch,   he 
came  down  very  early  to  inform  the  people  of 
his  loss,  and  inquired  if  anything  had  been 
missed  by  others  ;  this  led  her  to  make  an  ex- 
amination of  her  valuables,  when  she  found 
the   box   had   been   opened,  and   one  of  the 
bundles    abstracted,   the   more  valuable   one. 
She  was  asked  if  she  recognized  the  property 
before  her,  as  her  own  ;  and  examining  it  care- 
fully, counting  the  pieces,  she  replied  that  it 
was  all  hers,  and  that  nothing  was  missing. 
Having   stated   all   that   she   knew,  she  was 
allowed  to  leave  the  stand. 


134  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

Mr.  Barrett  was  next  called,  and  swore  to 
the  watch  and  chain  as  being  the  same  he  had 
presented  some  time  before  to  George  Hutch- 
ins,  and  Mr.  Wilder,  having  been  with  him 
at  the  time  of  the  purchase,  confirmed  his 
statement. 

The  detective  was  then  examined,  and  testi- 
fied as  follows  :  — 

"  I  am  a  detective  ;  on  the  morning  after 
the  theft  had  been  committed,  I  was  direct- 
ed to  collect  what  information  I  could  of  the 
parties  robbed,  and  endeavor  to  ferret  out  the 
whole  matter.  I  went  with  Mr.  Barrett  and 
Mr.  Hutchins  to  the  store  where  the  watch 
and  chain  were  bought,  and  gathered  all  the 
particulars  with  regard  to  the  property  I  de- 
sired ;  then  conceiving  it  might  have  been 
pawned,  I  visited  several  shops,  and  at  last, 
two  or  three  days  after,  found  one  where  the 
proprietor  acknowledged  having  made  an  ad- 
vance on  one  answering  my  description  ;  he 
produced  it,  and  this  is  the  one  here.  I  then 
ascertained  from  the  broker  that  the  person 
who  brought  it  was  a  young  man,  who  said  he 


THE    TRIAL.  1 3$ 

wanted  to  raise  a  little  money  for  a  day  or 
two,  and  was  to  call  yesterday  at  eleven  o'clock 
and  redeem  it.  I  secreted  myself  in  the  shop, 
and  about  the  hour  named,  the  boy  Ashley 
came  in,  evidently  prepared  to  pay  his  advance 
and  interest,  and  recover  the  possession  of  the 
articles  ;  at  this  point  I  came  forward,  con- 
fronted him,  and  having  sufficient  evidence  to 
warrant  it,  I  arrested  him  and  locked  him  up. 
In  a  conversation  with  him  later,  I  told  him  he 
had  better  tell  me  where  the  silver  was,  as  it 
would  be  to  his  interest ;  and  at  last,  after  a 
good  deal  of  hesitation,  he  acknowledged  that 
he  took  it,  and  had  left  it  with  another  broker 
at  the  south  part  of  the  city.  I  went  there, 
and  succeeded  in  obtaining  this  package  be- 
fore me." 

The  judge  then  inquired  of  the  officer,  if  to 
his  knowledge,  the  prisoner  had  ever  been  con- 
victed of  any  crime  before  ;  and  was  answered 
that  he  had  been  arrested  once,  but  there 
being  insufficient  evidence,  he  had  been  dis- 
charged. 

Then  turning  to  the  prisoner,  the  judge  in- 
quired if  he  had  any  witnesses. 


136  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

Robert  replied  that  he  had  sent  to  his  em- 
ployer to  inform  him  that  he  was  in  trouble, 
and  to  request  him  to  be  present,  but  he  did 
not  see  him. 

"  What  do  you  expect  to  prove  by  him  } " 
asked  the  judge, 

"  I  only  wanted  him  to  testify  to  my  good 
character  during  the  time  I  have  been  in  his 
employ,"  said  Robert. 

"  Have  you  any  other  witnesses  ? " 

Robert  was  just  about  to  say  "  No,"  when 
the  crowd  jostled  right  and  left,  and  a  weather- 
beaten  man  hurried  forward  ;  and  as  soon  as 
he  came  near  enough,  said,  in  a  loud  tone, 
"  Yes,  he  has  ;  /  ajn  his  father  !  " 

The  effect  of  this  sudden  and  unlooked-for 
appearance,  was  electrifying.  The  sailor  was 
sworn,  and  allowed  to  speak  for  his  boy,  who, 
trembling,  shamefaced,  and  almost  crushed  by 
his  disgraceful  position,  stood  looking  first  at 
one,  and  then  at  the  other.  His  father  pro- 
ceeded :  — 

"  I  am  the  captain  of  the  ship  Lion,  and  ar- 
rived here  from  Hong  Kong  last  night ;  this 


THE   TRIAL.  137 

morning  I  went  to  the  store  where  I  left  my 
son  employed,  but  found  he  had  not  been  there 
since  yesterday  morning.  No  one  seemed  to 
know  anything  about  him  ;  the  proprietor,  in 
whose  special  care  I  had  placed  him,  was 
absent,  having  been  called  out  of  town  on 
business.  I  at  once  went  to  Mrs.  Rice's 
boarding-house  to  gain  some  information  of 
him  if  possible,  and  was  told  of  his  arrest,  — 
to  my  surprise  and  sorrow,  —  and  that  his  trial 
would  come  off  to-day.  I  hastened  to  be  here 
in  season,  and  have  just  arrived." 

"Then,  of  course,  you  know  nothing  of  the 
circumstances  of  the  robbery,"  inquired  the 
judge. 

"  Nothing  whatever." 

"  Do  I  understand  that  you  wish  to  speak  in 
behalf  of  your  son  .-• " 

"  I  do,  indeed,  sir,"  said  the  father.  "  Rob- 
ert's mother  died  when  he  was  four  years  of 
age,  and  his  care  during  early  childhood  de- 
volved on  his  aunt,  his  mother's  sister ;  she  is 
now  dead.  As  I  said  before,  I  am  a  master 
mariner,   and   am   away   from   home   a  great 


138  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

deal ;  so  Robert  has  been  deprived  of  paren- 
tal discipline  almost  ever  since  his  mother's 
death.  He  has  naturally  a  good  disposition  ;  I 
never  heard  of  his  taking  anything  before  ;  he 
must  have  become  acquainted  with  some  very 
bad  boys ;  but  God  knows  that  I  never  expected 
to  be  obliged  to  stand  up  in  a  court  of  justice 
to  speak  in  his  behalf,  and  he  a  prisoner  at 
the  bar."  [Here  the  parent  could  control  his 
feelings  no  longer  ;  tears  coursed  their  way 
down  his  bronzed  cheeks,  and  the  strong  man, 
unused  to  weeping,  was  childlike  in  his  grief] 
Recovering  himself  in  a  degree,  he  continued  : 
"  I  procured  for  him  a  situation  in  a  wholesale 
dry  goods  house  before  I  left,  in  March  last, 
and  he  promised  to  be  faithful  and  good  ;  but 
now,  sir,  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  don't  believe  that 
Robert  is  a  hardened  boy  ;  I  will  try  and  save 
him  ;  the  property  will  be  restored  ;  no  one 
will  be  a  loser  by  him  ;  but  it  will  break  my 
heart  if  he  is  sent  to  prison. 

"  I  will  suffer  myself  to  be  put  under  any 
bonds  you  may  assign  that  I  will  take  the  boy 
on  my  next  voyage,  and   until   my  vessel  is 


THE   TRIAL.  139 

ready  for  sea  the  Court  can  have  control  over 
him.  I  hope  your  Honor  will  be  generous 
enough  to  grant  my  request ;  it  is  a  sad  posi- 
tion for  me,  and  an  awful  one  for  Jiim.  I  have 
already  received  a  shock  which  it  will  take  a 
long  time  to  recover  from  ;  but  if  he  is  sent  to 
prison,  it  will  crush  me,  and  I  fear  ruin  him. 
Do  give  me  an  opportunity  to  try  and  reform 
him,  by  taking  him  to  sea."  The  father  sat 
down,  convulsed  with  emotion. 

"  Yoii  had  a  word  to  say  to  me  early  in  the 
case,  Mr.  Hutchins,"  said  the  judge;  "you 
may  now  be  heard." 

George  rose,  and  as  composedly  as  he  could, 
told  the  Court  that  he  had  been  in  the  city 
since  September  last,  all  the  time  a  boarder  at 
Mrs.  Rice's,  and  a  part  of  the  time  a  room- 
mate with  Robert  Ashley ;  and  although  he 
could  not  truthfully  say  that  Robert  was  cor- 
rect in  all  his  habits,  still  he  had  never  observ- 
ed anything  to  indicate  that  he  was  addicted  to 
stealing ;  and  he  thought  the  boy  must  have 
been  sorely  tempted,  or  he  would  not  have 
fallen  this  time  ;  that  so  far  as  he  was  per- 


140  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

sonally  concerned,  he  pitied  Robert,  and 
hoped  the  judge  would  exercise  mercy  in  the 
case. 

Mr.  Wilder  having  an  opportunity  to  say  a 
word,  hoped  that  if  the  court  could  con- 
sistently grant  the  prayer  of  the  father  of  the 
youth,  it  would  he  done,  as  he  had  no  hesitation 
in  expressing  his  belief  that  it  would  be  for 
the  future  good  of  the  boy,  as  the  disgrace 
attending  a  confinement  in  a  prison  would 
hang  around  him  forever  after  his  release,  — 
which  might  occur  during  his  father's  absence, 
—  and  he,  left  without  business,  friends,  or  rep- 
utation, would  be  thrown,  almost  of  necessity, 
into  the  society  of  those  worse  than  himself, 
and  through  their  influence,  be  ruined. 

With  this  view,  Mr.  Wilder  expressed  the 
desire  that  if  the  judge  could  see  any  exten- 
uating circumstances,  he  would  exercise  his 
prerogative,  and  save  the  boy. 

Mr.  Wilder  further  added  that  he  was  au- 
thorized by  Mrs.  Rice  to  express  her  disposi- 
tion not  only  to  be  satisfied  with  such  a 
course,  but  it  was  at  her  request,  in  part,  that 


THE    TRIAL.  I4I 

he  now  strongly  urged  it.  After  citing  a  case 
which  came  under  his  own  personal  observa- 
tion of  a  young  man  brought  up  for  a  first 
ofTence,  (in  which  such  clemency  was  exercised 
as  was  urged  in  the  present  case),  and  who 
was  afterwards  placed  under  favorable  auspices, 
and  is  now  a  highly  esteemed  member  of  so- 
ciety, he  submitted  his  argument,  and  took  his 
seat.     The  judge  then  reviewed  the  case  :  — 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  a  larceny  has 
been  committed  at  the  place,  and  of  the  arti- 
cles mentioned  in  the  indictment,  nor  that 
the  defendant  is  the  guilty  party.  The  ques- 
tion now  to  consider,  is  on  the  punishment. 

"  The  charge  is  a  grave  one,  and  merits  a 
severe  penalty,  unless  there  be  sufficiently 
strong  mitigating  circumstances  to  control  it. 

"As  a  general  principle,  crime  should  be 
punished  ;  for  the  reason  that  if  nothing  hangs 
over  the  criminal  to  deter  him,  it  is  really 
offering  a  premium  for  its  commission.  Still, 
it  is  an  object  of  punishment  to  reform  the 
prisoner,  as  well  as  to  deter  others. 


142  THE- BOSTON   BOY. 

"  There  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  the 
prisoner  has  ever  been  convicted  of  any  other 
offence,  and  the  parties  robbed  have  expressed 
personally,  or  by  proxy,  satisfaction.  They 
desire,  not  only  to  drop  the  case,  so  far  as 
they  are  concerned,  but  to  act,  if  justice  can 
be  satisfied,  for  the  good  of  the  prisoner.  I 
am  disposed  in  all  cases  when  I  am  satisfied 
beneficial  results  will  accrue  from  lenient  ac- 
tion, to  make  the  penalty  for  crime  such  that 
it  will  be  a  benefit  to  the  party,  rather  than 
of  such  a  character  as  to  crush  the  victim  in 
his  future  prospects  ;  and  yet  great  caution 
should  be  used  in  judging  between  true  pen- 
itence and  the  counterfeit, 

"In  the  case  before  me,  I  think  I  may, 
under  the  circumstances,  exercise  some  clem- 
ency. I  shall,  therefore,  order  the  defendant 
to  pay  the  costs  of  prosecution,  and  to  be 
confined,  under  the  care  of  the  sheriff,  in  the 
county  jail,  until  the  parent  is  ready  for  sea  ; 
and  shall  order  the  defendant  on  probation  ; 
requiring  bonds  in  the  sum  of  five  thousand 


THE   TRIAL.  1 43 

dollars  for  his  good  behavior ;  the  present 
complaint  to  be  placed  on  file,  to  be  brought 
up  against  the  prisoner  if  he  is  ever  arraigned 
before  this  court  again  for  any  offence."  Then 
turning  to  Robert,  he  said,  "  You  see  now 
what  it  is  to  have  friends  to  love  you  and 
plead  for  you.  A  reform  on  your  part,  will 
have  the  effect  of  proving  to  them  your  ability 
to  become  a  worthy  member  of  society  ;  while, 
if  you  take  advantage  of  their  kindness,  and 
the  indulgence  which  the  Court  now  sees  fit 
to  exercise,  you  again  sin,  it  will  not  only  be 
an  insult  to  the  Court,  which  will  be  recognized 
in  the  meting  out  of  future  sentence,  but 
weaken  the  confidence  of  every  one  in  the 
professions  of  persons  similarly  situated  in 
future. 

"  When  your  father  is  ready  for  sea,  go 
with  him,  learn  to  be  a  sailor,  abstain  from 
vices  that  will  lead  you  back  again  into  sin, 
grow  up  to  be  a  comfort  to  that  father 
whose  gray  hairs  must  remind  you  that  he 
will  not  always  be  spared  to  you,  and  know 
that   it   rests    with   you   to   say  whether   the 


144  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

evening  of  his  life  shall  be  cheered  or  blasted 
by  your  conduct." 

Robert  was  then  conveyed  from  the  court 
room,  preparatory  to  his  removal  to  jail.  His 
father  gratefully  paid  the  costs,  and  the  re- 
quired bonds  were  given. 


CHAPTER    X. 


THE   JAIL. 


N  George's  return  to  the  store,  he 
found  a  letter  awaiting  him  from 
Henry  Clement,  informing  him  that 
his  father's  affairs  were  assuming  a  more  favor- 
able appearance  than  they  had  feared  they 
would  at  first.  An  arrangement  had  been 
made  which  would  still  enable  them  to  retain 
possession  of  the  house  and  farm,  that  his 
father  had  accepted  an  agency  of  an  insurance 
company,  that  one  of  his  sisters  was  intending 
to  procure  pupils  to  take  lessons  in  music,  — 
in  fact  had  already  four  engaged,  —  while  the 
other  sister  had  an  offer,  which  she  was  about 
to  accept,  of  a  position  as  governess  in  a 
family  in  an  adjoining  town  ;  that  sad  and 
lo  145 


146  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

humiliating  as  these  reverses  were,  they  had 
determined  to  accept  the  situation  calmly,  and 
if  possibly,  cheerfully ;  and  for  himself,  he 
was  anxious  to  obtain  a  situation  in  some 
store  in  the  city,  and  asked  George  if  he  could 
render  him  any  assistance,  closing  his  letter 
by  saying,  "  but  for  -the  grace  of  God,  I  do  not 
know  what  I  might  have  done  in  this  time 
of  trouble  ;  but  I  place  my  trust  in  the  Al- 
mighty arm,  and  am  consoled  by  the  con- 
sciousness that '  He  doeth  all  things  well' " 

George  showed  this  letter  to  Mr.  Wilder, 
and  asked  him  if  he  knew  of  any  place  he 
could  secure  for  Henry.  His  employer 
thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  I  don't 
know  whether  or  not  the  vacancy  created  by 
Robert's  trouble  has  yet  been  filled  ;  but  I 
know  the  parties,  and  will  at  once  call  on 
them,  and  mention  your  young  friend." 

In  a  day  or  two,  Mr.  Wilder  told  George 
that  he  had  had  an  interview  with  the  proprie- 
tor of  the  store  where  Robert  had  been  em- 
ployed, and  found  that  the  vacancy  still  ex- 
isted, but  that  they  were  anxious  to  have  it 


THE  JAIL.  147 

filled  when  they  could  secure  the  services  of  a 
good  boy.  They  were  pleased  with  the  infor- 
mation he  had  given  them  of  Henry's  habits 
and  general  character,  as  known  by  George, 
and  would  like  to  see  him  ;  and  Mr.  Wilder 
had  told  them  that  he  would  have  the  young 
man  sent  for. 

George  was  very  happy  to  have  ^  the  oppor- 
tunity to  write  such  good  tidings  to  Henry, 
and  sat  down  at  once  to  carry  the  promise 
into  execution  ;  and  the  next  Monday,  brought 
Henry  with  valise  in  hand  to  Mr.  Wilder's  store. 
That  gentleman,  after  a  series  of  questions  to 
ascertain  for  himself  something  of  the  lad's 
character,  and  being  perfectly  satisfied  with  his 
replies,  accompanied  him  to  the  store,  where 
he  was  at  once  accepted,  and  commenced 
his  labors.  Of  course  the  young  men  were 
anxious  to  room  together,  and  Robert's  de- 
parture rendered  it  possible ;  so  Mrs.  Rice 
made  some  changes  in  her  domestic  relations  ; 
they  were  given  a  large  front  room,  and 
George  and  Henry  duly  installed  therein. 

George,  now  thought,  with  reason,  that  these 


148  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

were  halcyon  days,  and  two  happier,  better 
dispositioned  young  men  could  not  be  found. 
Henry  joined  Mr.  Thomas's  Bible  class,  and 
was  as  constant  in  his  attendance  there,  and  at 
the  religious  services  of  the  church,  as  Geor<;c 
had  ever  been.  They  were  almost  insepara- 
ble ;  wherever  one  was  seen  (out  of  business 
hours),  it  was  certain  the  other  was  not  far 
distant. 

The  close  of  the  year,  now  approaching,  was 
characterized  by  a  remarkable  degree  of  re- 
ligious interest  in  the  church  the  two  young 
men  attended.  Many  souls  were  converted, 
and  there  was  a  large  acquisition  of  members. 
This  state  of  things  was  particularly  noticea- 
ble in  the  Sabbath  school ;  in  fact  it  had  its 
beginning  there.  Meetings  were  held  every 
evening,  and  George  and  Henry  were  earnestly 
engaged  in  the  kind  of  labor  in  which  they 
both  delighted ;  pointing  their  young  com- 
panions the  way  to  God, 

Having  obtained  the  consent  of  their  par- 
ents, and  with  the  approbation  of  their  Sab- 
bath   school    teacher,   they   both    joined   the 


THE  JAIL.  149 

church  on  the  same  Sabbath,  having  given 
good  evidence  of  the  hope  within  them. 
The  feehng  increased,  and  continued  very 
deep  through  the  entire  winter,  and  the  young 
men  had  reason  to  praise  God  that  his  bless- 
ing had  attended  their  efforts  for  the  good  of 
the  young  people  of  their  acquaintance. 

Mrs.  Hutchins  had  accepted  an  invitation 
from  her  brother  to  pass  a  few  weeks  with 
hirn  and  his  family,  and  was  present  at  church 
on  the  Sabbath  her  son  was  admitted  to 
church-fellowship ;  and  free  from  care  and 
trouble,  as  her  life  had  been  for  years,  the 
Sabbath  on  which  she  witnessed  George's  pub- 
lic identification  with  the  people  of  God,  was 
the  happiest  she  had  ever  spent  on  earth  ;  and 
she  so  expressed  herself  on  reaching  home, 
saying,  in  the  language  of  the  Holy  Book,  with 
which  she  was  so  familiar,  and  apt  quotations 
from  which  were  often  reverently  made  in  her 
daily  conversation,  "  Lord,  now  lettest  thou 
thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes 
have  seen  thy  salvation." 

Her  visit   to   Mr.  Wood's   house  gave  the 


150  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

Barretts  and  Wilders  frequent  opportunities  to 
see  Mrs.  Hutchins,  which  they  improved,  often 
riding  out  to  call  on  her;  while  she,  during 
her  stay  in  the  vicinity,  made  occasional  calls 
in  return ;  and  these  families,  having  such  ad- 
vantages for  observation,  would,  in  their  fre- 
quent conversations  on  the  subject,  ask  the 
question,  "  Which  is  the  happier  or  more  to  be 
envied,  the  mother  of  such  a  son,  or  the  son 
of  such  a  mother  ? " 

Mrs,  Hutchins  was  very  grateful  to  the  kind 
friends  of  her  son,  for  their  liberality  and  good 
feeling,  but  she  exercised  her  right,  as  their 
senior  in  years,  to  caution  them  against  pla- 
cing too  high  an  estimate  on  him  ;  not  that  she 
did  not  consider  him  entitled  to  all  he  had 
received  of  kind  treatment,  but  that  he  might 
"  not  think  more  highly  of  himself  than  he 
ought  to  think  ; "  (a  self-estimation  to  which 
he  was  not  naturally  prone,  but  from  which 
she  desired  him  always  to  be  free.) 

The  two  families  would  have  been  glad  to 
have  induced  her  to  remain  with  them  all 
winter,  but  she  was  resolute  in  her  determina- 


THE   JAIL.  151 

tion  to  return  home  as  soon  as  she  had  fin- 
ished her  visit  at  her  brother's,  and  all  their 
arguments  proved  fruitless  ;  and  even  Mary, 
who  was  at  once  received  by  Mrs.  Hutchins 
as  a  pet,  could  only  prevail  on  her  to  spend 
one  short  week  with  them  ;  but  they  made  the 
most  of  that  week ;  and  when  she  left,  she 
extended  an  invitation  to  the  Barretts  and 
Wilders  to  visit  her  at  her  country  residence 
the  next  summer,  and  Mary  secured  a  promise 
from  her  father,  that  a  portion  of  her  August 
vacation,  if  she  was  able,  should  be  passed 
with  "  Mother  Hutchins." 

During  Robert's  confinement  at  the  jail, 
George  had  visited  him  several  times,  and  on 
one  occasion  he  went  accompanied  by  Mrs. 
Rice. 

Robert  appeared  deeply  penitent,  and  grate- 
ful to  his  friends  for  their  intercession  in  his 
behalf  on  the  day  of  the  trial.  He  had  asked 
George's  forgiveness  over  and  over  again,  and 
George  had  repeatedly  assured  him  that  he 
had  it,  and  that  so  far  from  feeling  any  ill-will 
towards   him,  his  emotions  were  of  the  ten- 


152  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

derest  regard.  On  this  occasion,  Mrs.  Rice  was 
asked  by  him  for  her  pardon,  and  she  told  him 
that  she  had  never  entertained  any  sentiment 
towards  him  but  kindness,  and  that  her  princi- 
pal desire  in  his  case  now,  was  to  see  him  grow 
up  to  be  a  good  man,  and  an  honored  member 
of  society. 

As  she  was  about  leaving,  and  might  not 
have  another  interview,  she  took  occasion  to 
give  him  some  good,  taotherly  advice  in  a  spirit 
of  kindness,  which  was  well  received,  and  for 
which  he  thanked  her.  Taking  his  hand,  she 
said, — 

"  Robert,  you  would  have  loved  and  tried  to 
obey  your  mother,  if  she  had  been  spared  to 
you,  would  you  not }  " 

"  I  would." 

"It  might  have  changed  the  whole  course 
of  your  life  if  she  had  lived,  but  it  was  for  the 
best,  no  doubt,  that  you  were  so  early  in  life 
deprived  of  her  counsel  and  care.  I  am  a 
mother.  If  I  should  give  you  some  advice 
that  I  think  will  be  good  for  you,  will  you  en- 
deavor to  follow  it }  " 


THE  JAIL.  153 

"I  will." 

"  I  may  be  plain,  but  you  will  not  be  offended 
when  you  know  I  speak  solely  for  your  good. 
First  then,  Robert,  leave  off  forever  the  use 
of  intoxicating  liquors  ;  this,  1  fear,  was  the 
direct  cause  of  your  fall ;  next,  avoid  the 
society  of  all  those  whose  habits  you  do  not 
know  to  be  good,  whose  words  are  impure 
or  profane,  or  who  visit  low  and  disreputable 
haunts.  I  want  you  to  occupy  the  time  you 
would  pass  in  their  company,  and  in  learning 
their  ways,  in  improving  your  mind  ;  and  to 
that  end,  I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  you 
will  read  and  study  some  books  I  have  at 
home,  and  will  send  to  you.  During  your 
expected  absence  from  home  you  will  have 
ample  opportunity  to  do  this  ;  and  if  you  fully 
appreciate  the  benefits  which  are  sure  to  re- 
sult, I  am  satisfied  you  will  never  regret  your 
I^romise  to  me.  If  your  mother  had  lived,  or 
your  father's  business  had  detained  him  on 
the  land,  your  facilities  for  this  mental  im- 
provement, would  have  been  much  greater.  I 
knew  your   dear    mother  well ;    she  was   too 


154  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

good  for  this  wicked  world,  and  her  highest 
ambition  seemed  to  be  that  you  might  grow 
up  to  be  a  good  man.  She  often  talked  to  me 
about  you,  when  you  were  very  young,  and 
of  her  hopes  for  your  future  ;  and  she  used  to 
talk  to  me  also,  Robert,  of  her  faith  in  God  that 
you  would  be  a  Christian.  I  have  not  profited 
as  I  ought  by  her  good  example,  but  I  am 
trying  to  do  better ;  and  how  much  good  we 
may  both  be  able  to  do,  if  we  try !  It  is  not 
too  late  now,  particularly  for  you.  You  are 
yet  young,  and  if  you  will  see  the  importance 
of  what  I  say,  I  know  you  will  realize  much 
good  from  following  my  directions,  and  I  shall 
have  no  fears  for  your  future.  Now,  will  you 
promise  me  all  I  have  asked  ? " 

"  I  will,  Mrs.  Rice  ;  I  do,  and  thank  you  be- 
sides." 

"  There  are  some  other  things  of  a  religious 
nature,  which  I  feel  should  be  said,  but 
George  is  here,  and  he  can  say  them  better 
than  I  can,  and  I  need  counsel  on  those 
matters  quite  as  much  as  any  one.  I  leave 
you  with   him  ;   I   know  he  will  do  his  duty 


THE  JAIL.  155 

to  you,  and  I  beg  you  to  take  heed  to  every- 
thing he  may  say. 

"Now,  Robert,  God  bless  you,  at  sea  and 
at  home ;  everywhere ;  now  and  forever ; 
farewell." 

"  Before  you  go,  Mrs.  Rice,  /  have  a  word 
to  say,"  remarked  Robert.  '•  I  am  now  in 
confinement ;  it  has  given  me  time  for  thought, 
and  I  hope  I  am  better  for  the  punishment ; 
it  has  been  a  lesson  to  me,  at  all  events,  so  far 
as  this:  I  have  learned  to  feel  that  I  de- 
served this  imprisonment,  and  a  severer  pun- 
ishment for  my  offence,  and  I  am  deeply 
grateful  to  you  all  for  causing  it  to  be  so 
light ;  but  it  mortifies  me  to  be  seen  here ; 
yes,  it  wounds  my  heart  to  know  that  I  have 
been  bad  enough  to  be  sent  here  ;  and  I  want 
to  say  to  you  both,  that  as  God  hears  me 
speak,  and  with  His  help,  I  will  never 
do  anything  which  would  result  in  my  being 
placed  in  prison  again,  so  long  as  I 
hve." 

Mrs.  Rice  could  not  reply,  and  Robert 
could  have  said  but  little  more,  audibly.     The 


156  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

"  farewell "  was  imagined ;  they  wrung  each 
other's  hand,  and  Mrs.  Rice  left. 

After  her  departure,  George  asked  Robert 
if  he  remembered  the  conversations  they  had 
sometimes  held  in  their  little  room  at  Mrs. 
Rice's  on  religious  matters.     He  did. 

"  You  thought,  perhaps,  that  I  was  intrud- 
ing, perhaps  impertinent ;  but,  Robert,  I 
meant  it  all  for  your  good." 

"  I  know  you  did,  George  ;  and  if  I  had  only 
listened  to  you  then,  I  should  not  be  here 
now." 

"  Quite  likely,  Robert,  but  it  is  not  too  late 
now.  May  I  .-*  are  you  willing  I  should  say 
something  more  to  you  on  the  same  subject 
to-day  > " 

"Yes,  George,  I  should  like  to  hear  you. 
I  have  had  a  good  deal  of  time  to  think,  since 
I  have  been  here,  and  have  had  several  con- 
versations with  the  chaplain ;  a  good  man 
he  is,  too  ;  but  I  think  I  should  like  to  hear 
jfou  talk,  for  I  have  known  you  longer,  and 
noticed  that  you  are  not  like  some  I  have 
known,  who  call  themselves   Christians,  who 


THE  JAIL.  157 

pray  on  Sundays,  and  do  not  think  of  God 
through  all  the  rest  of  the  week.  I  have  seen 
enough  of  you,  to  satisfy  me  that  you  are 
my  friend." 

"  Yes,  Robert,  I  am.  I  would  do  anything 
in  my  power,  to  see  you  a  Christian ;  it  is 
simple,  — '  ask  and  ye  shall  receive ; '  when  you 
feel  that  you  have  need  of  a  Saviour,  just  ask 
for  grace,  and  you  will  receive  it,  freely,  fully, 
gloriously,  O,  Robert,  as  you  will  soon  leave 
this  place  to  go  abroad,  what  can  you  take 
that  will  be  of  more  value  to  you  than  a 
Saviour's  love  ? 

"In  all  probability,  as  I  am  told,  a  week 
from  to-day  will  find  you  on  board  of  your 
father's  ship,  and  it  may  be  the  last  oppor- 
tunity I  shall  ever  have  to  urge  you  to  make 
your  peace  with  God.  Life  is  uncertain ; 
death  calls  all,  young  or  old ;  you  are  liable 
to  be  wrecked.  O,  Robert,  do  not  wilfully, 
thoughtlessly,  postpone  this  great  subject,  and 
wreck  your  soul.  I  beg,  I  implore  you  to 
give  your  heart   to  God  now." 

Robert  was  deeply  affected.     George  asked 


158  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

him  if  he  would  allow  him  to  pray  with  him. 
They  rose  together,  and  knelt  beside  his  cot, 
while  George  besought  his  heavenly  Father 
to  accept  the  sinner,  who  he  felt  was  penitent ; 
if  he  was  not  sufficiently  so,  to  soften  his 
heart ;  but  of  all  else,  to  prevent  by  His  grace 
that  the  youth  should  leave  that  place,  or 
secure  his  freedom',  until  he  could  believe 
that  "if  the  Son  shall  make  you  free,  you 
shall  be  free  indeed."  They  rose :  George 
took  from  his  pocket  a  Bible,  and  pointing  to 
the  fly-leaf,  Robert  read,  — "  From  George 
Hutchins  to  Robert  Ashley :  may  God  bless 
the  reading  of  this  book." 

George  had  now  exhausted  all  the  time 
which  had  been  granted  him  to  be  absent, 
so  he  rose  to  go,  saying,  "Robert,  I  will  try 
to  see  you  again  to-morrow ;  please  think  of 
what  has  been  said,  pray  for  yourself,  and 
when  I  see  you  again,  tell  me  that  you  have 
made  up  your  mind  to  be  a  Christian." 

He  had  just  left  the  jail,  and  was  passing 
rapidly  through  the  street,  when  he  saw 
Mary  Barrett  on  her  way  home ;    and  as  his 


THE   JAIL.  159 

route  to  the  store  led  directly  past  her  father's 
house,  he  slackened  his  pace  somewhat,  that 
he  might  accompany  her.  She  asked  him 
where  he  had  been,  and  he  gave  her  a  partial 
account  of  his  interview  with  Robert  at  the 
jail,  how  humble  and  sorry  he  was  for  his 
offence,  and  expressed  to  her  his  hope  that 
Robert  would  grow  up  to  be  a  good  man. 

She  evinced  a  good  deal  of  interest  in  him, 
and  when  she  heard  that  he  was  going  to  sea 
so  soon,  and  of  Mrs.  Rice's  offer  of  books,  she 
announced  her  determination  to  ask  her  father 
to  provide  some  also,  for  Robert  to  read  dur- 
ing the  voyage.  This,  George  very  much  ap- 
proved of,  and  she  said  she  should  speak  to 
her  father  about  it,  that  very  night. 

"  So,  do,"  said  George  ;  "  Robert  will  be  so 
happy.  I  shall  see  him,  probably,  to-morrow 
afternoon,  and  I  shan't  say  anything  to  him 
about  it,  but  I  am  sure  it  will  please  him." 

That  night  George  and  Henry  went  to  a 
young  people's  prayer  meeting,  and  the  oc- 
currences at  the  jail  were  related,  and  the 
prayers  of  the  meeting  requested  for  the  poor 


l6o  THE   BOSTON  BOY. 

young  prisoner.  One  and  another  led  his 
case  to  the  throne  of  grace  ;  and  when  the 
meeting  was  over,  and  they  were  returning 
home,  George  remarked  that  he  had  a  feeling 
within  him  that  he  could  not  account  for  or 
explain,  but  it  was  impressed  on  his  mind 
that  the  prayers  of  that  evening  would  be 
answered,  adding,  "  Henry,  I  feel  confident 
that  Robert  will  be  a  Christian  before  he 
leaves  that  jail."  This  confidence,  however, 
did  not  deter  them  both  from  again  pleading 
his  cause  in  their  own  devotions  at  home  ;  and 
after  he  had  retired,  almost  his  last  conscious 
breath  was  a  prayer,  "  O  God,  grant  my  pe- 
tition, accept  him,  send  down  thy  blessing." 

The  next  forenoon,  Mr.  Barrett  called  in  at 
the  store,  and  said  to  George,  "  Mary  is  a  lit- 
tle teaser ;  she  would  give  me  no  peace,  until 
I  had  promised  to  purchase  some  books  for 
the  young  lad  who  took  such  a  liking  to  your 
watch.  So  I  had  to  please  her ;  and  if  you 
can  be  spared  to  go  out  with  me,  we  will  look 
in  at  some  bookstores,  and  you  may  assist  me 
in  making  a  selection." 


THE   JAIL.  l6l 

George  sought  Mr.  Wilder's  presence,  and 
told  him  that  he  had  been  away  the  day  be- 
fore, by  permission,  to  the  jail,  to  see  Robert, 
and  had  promised  him,  (conditional  on  Mr. 
Wilder's  consent),  to  go  again  that  afternoon. 
He  told  him  that  he  had  found  Robert  in  a  state 
of  mind  at  once  surprising  and  delightful  to 
him,  and  he  felt  in  his  heart,  from  what  he 
had  heard  and  seen,  that  Robert  was  not  far 
from  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  that  under  the 
circumstances,  as  business  was  dull,  if  there 
was  no  objection,  he  would  like  to  go  again 
in  the  afternoon  ;  and  added,  that  Mr.  Barrett 
was  now  waiting  permission  for  him  to  go  and 
assist  in  the  selection  of  some  books  that 
that  gentleman  was  proposing  to  purchase,  as 
a  parting  present  for  Robert  ;  that  he  knew 
he  had  no  claim  on  his  employer's  generosity 
in  the  use  of  any  more  of  his  time,  but  if  he 
was  perfectly  willing,  he  would  like  to. 

Mr.  Wilder  smiled,  and  replied,  "  Well,  go, 
and  do  all  the  good  you  can." 

Mr.  Barrett  and  George  passed  through 
several    streets    and     entered     many    stores 


1 62  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

before  they  found  anything  to  exactly  suit 
them.  At  last,  iii  one  place,  they  found  a 
box,  or  library,  containing  twenty  volumes 
of  selected  religious  works,  which  they  both 
thought  were  just  the  thing,  and  Mr.  Barrett 
ordered  them  sent  to  his  house,  to  be  for- 
warded to  Robert,  as  soon  as  he  should  have 
joined  the  ship. 

George's  impressions  of  the  night  before, 
with  regard  to  Robert's  spiritual  condition, 
had  not  been  removed  from  his  mind  ;  and 
when  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  jail,  in  the 
afternoon,  he  was  all  the  way  repeating,  silent- 
ly, the  prayer  of  the  night  before. 

He  passed  by  the  row  of  empty  cells,  and 
had  just  turned  into  the  corridor  where  Robert 
was,  when  he  heard  voices,  and  on  reaching 
Robert's  apartment,  he  saw  a  gentleman  who 
was  introduced  as  the  chaplain,  who,  looking 
up  at  George,  said,  "  Here  is  blessed  news  ; 
our  young  friend  has  found  the  'pearl  of  great 
price.'  " 

•'  Yes,  George,"  said  Robert,  "  I  have  found 
the  Saviour." 


THE  JAIL.  163 

There  was  a  scene  in  that  room  that  after- 
noon, at  which  angels  rejoiced. 

Robert,  on  George's,  departure  the  day  be- 
fore, had  wrestled  with  God,  and  begged  for 
mercy,  till  at  last  light  broke  in  on  his  soul, 
and  he  felt  himself  a  child  of  God.  They 
passed  a  delightful  afternoon  together.  How 
Robert  blessed  God  for  even  the  circum- 
stances which  led  him  to  that  place  of  con- 
finement, where  his  spirit  was  liberated.  His 
cell  was  no  longer  the  dark,  dismal  place 
it  had  been,  and  his  countenance  was  bright 
with  joy,  and  indicative  of  the  peace  that 
reigned  within. 


CHAPTER    XI. 


OFF   FOR   CHINA. 


T  last  the  ship  Lion  was  ready  for 
sea,  and  among  those  who  were 
looking  on,  observing  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  long  voyage,  were  some  unac- 
customed to  such  scenes  ;  some,  in  fact,  who 
had  never,  in  all  their  lives,  seen  a  vessel  "  get 
under  weigh."  To  others,  the  scene  was  no 
novelty,  (and  for  precisely  this  reason),  they 
were  rarely  seen  on  the  wharves  on  such 
occasions. 

Early  that  morning,  Mr.  Barrett  had  sent 
the  library  to  the  ship,  with  a  note  directed 
to  Robert  Ashley ;  and  now  he,  with  his 
family,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wilder,  one  or  two  of  the 
boarders  at  Mrs.  Rice's,  and  George  Hutchins, 

164 


OFF   FOR   CHINA.  1 65 

were  on  the  dock,  waiting  the  arrival  of  Captain 
Ashley  and  his  son,  who  were  expected  every 
moment.  One  of  the  mates  invited  the  party 
on  board ;  an  invitation  which  they  accepted, 
and  that  officer  took  them-  over  the  vessel, 
showing  them  everything  in  which  he  thought 
they  might  be  interested. 

Presently  a  carriage  approached,  and  the 
father  and  son  stepped  on  board.  Captain 
Ashley  was  introduced  to  such  of  the  com- 
pany as  he  had  never  met,  and  all  pressed 
forward  to  grasp  Robert's  hand.  He  looked 
well  in  his  new  jaunty  sailor's  suit,  which  had 
just  been  purchased  as  a  part  of  his  outfit, 
and  which  so  altered  his  appearance,  as  to 
render  him  almost  unrecognizable.  His 
countenance  beamed  with  pleasant  anticipa- 
tions, and  indicated  the  happiness  resulting 
from  peace  with  God. 

As  soon  as  he  recognized  Robert,  George 
stepped  forward,  and  was  the  first  to  salute 
him.  The  captain  invited  them  into  the 
cabin,  and  they  all  went,  Robert  as  anxious 
as  any,  for  he  had  not  been  on  board  since 


1 66  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

the  ship  was  in  port  before,  nearly  a  year  ago. 
As  they- passed  into  the  cabin,  some  one  asked 
where  Robert's  quarters  were,  and  they  were 
shown  into  a  comfortable  state-room,  commo- 
dious and  neat.  Robert  looked  in  also,  and 
saw  with  surprise  the  library  set  up  and  open, 
with  the  note  accompanying. 

"O,  George,  this  is  more  of  your  work," 
said  he,  taking  up  the  letter. 

"  No,  Robert,  you  are  mistaken  there ;  you 
are  indebted  to  Mr.  Barrett  for  that,"  said 
George. 

"Another  error,"  said  Mr.  Barrett.  "This 
young  lady  (pointing  to  Mary)  originated  the 
idea,  Robert,  thinking  that  sometimes  your 
time  might  hang  heavily,  and  a  good  book  to 
take  up  now  and  then,  would  be  agreeable ; 
while  George  assisted  me  in  the  selection.  I 
had  rather  you  would  not  open  the  letter  now ; 
it  contains  little  of  immediate  importance," 
said  he,  as  he  saw  Robert  about  to  break  the 
seal.  "I  should  prefer  to  have  you  read  it 
after  you  have  left." 

"  Well,"    said    Robert,    "  I    am   very   much 


OFF    FOR   CHINA.  1 6/ 

obliged  to  you  all,  and  wish  to  say  that  every- 
thing through  which  I  have  passed,  has,  I 
trust,  been  overruled  for  my  good  ;  I  believe 
my  sins  have  been  forgiven,  and  am  deter- 
mined that  my  life,  so  poorly  begun,  shall  be 
continued,  as  long  as  I  am  permitted  to  enjoy 
it,  in  the  service  of  my  Master." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  this,"  said  Mr.  Wilder, 
"  and  you  have  my  prayers,  and  the  prayers  of 
all  of  us,  for  your  prosperity." 

Then  turning  to  George,  Robert  began  to 
say  something  of  the  debt  of  gratitude  he 
owed  him  for  the  interest  manifested  by  him, 
but  George  made  a  signal  for  him  to  cease, 
saying,  — 

"  All  the  praise  belongs  to  God." 

During  all  this  time  Robert  preserved  a 
modest,  and  at  times,  a  bashful  demeanor, 
pleasantly  in  contrast  to  his  former  bold,  de- 
fiant style. 

"Captain  Ashley,"  said  Mr.  Barrett,  "I 
hope  you  will  have  a  prosperous  and  pleasant 
voyage,  and  return  safely,  with  all  your  ship's 
company,  in  hcfilth  ;  and  thc^t  we  may  all  liv^ 


1 68  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

to  see  each  other  again.  The  Captain  re- 
plied, — 

"  I  am  outside  but  a  rough  sailor,  but  I  have 
a  heart  capable  of  being  touched  by  kindness. 
I  have  seen  during  my  stay  at  home,  this  voy- 
age, more  of  Christian  benevolence  than  ever 
before  in  my  life.  I  have  seen  religion  carried 
into  every-day  life ;  and  but  for  you,  my  friends, 
where  would  my  son  have  been  to-day  ?  I  as- 
sure you,  your  generosity  has  touched  my 
heart,  and  led  me  to  think  of  myself  and  my 
lost  condition,  and  now,  as  I  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  wait  for  an  hour  or  so  more  for  the 
pilot,  I  would  like,  as  a  favor,  which  I  assure 
yqfjL  I  shall  always  remember,  to  have  a  prayer 
made  in  my  cabin.  I  have  commanded  this 
ship  eleven  years,  and,  to  my  knowledge,  a 
prayer  was  never  made  on  board.  Dedicate 
her,  and  the  ship's  company  to  the  service  of 
God,  and,  with  divine  assistance,  I  will  en- 
deavor to  do  my  duty." 

They  knelt ;  Mr.  Wilder  led  them  to  the 
throne  of  grace,  followed  by  Mr.  Barrett,  and 
then  George  was  called  on  by  the  captain  ;  all 


OFF   FOR   CHINA.  1 69 

praying  for  the  safety  of  the  vessel  and  those 
on  board,  but  more  particularly  for  the  salva- 
tion of  him  who  made  the  request,  that  he 
might  be  brought  to  the  foot  of  the  Cross  ; 
and  also  for  the  recent  convert,  that  he  might 
be  kept  from  temptation,  honor  the  cause  of 
his  Master,  and  be  the  means  of  doing  great 
good. 

When  they  rose,  Mr.  Wilder,  in  a  clear  voice, 
commenced  singing  a  hymn,  in  which  he  was' 
joined  by  all  present,  the  ladies  included,  and 
at  the  unusual  sound  of  which,  the  men  on 
board  stopped  their  work  to  listen,  as  the 
sweet  chords  were  heard  from  the  cabin. 

"Jesus,  refuge  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly,  ' 

While  the  raging  billows  roll, 

While  the  tempest  still  is  nigh ; 
Hide  me,  O,  my  Saviour,  hide, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past; 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide; 

O,  receive  my  soul  at  last." 

A  few  words  in  private,  closed  this  confer- 
ence.    They  shook  hands,  tears,  manly  tears, 


I/O  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

were  slied,  and  they  separated,  some  to  re- 
main and  labor  in  the  Lord's  vineyard  at 
home,  while  the  others  would  soon  be  on  their 
way  to  a  far  distant  port. 

The  letter  which  Robert  was  requested  to 
allow  to  remain  sealed  till  his  departure,  was 
opened  as  soon  as  the  tug-boat  had  started 
the  ship  from  the  wharf,  so  impatient  was  he 
to  know  its  contents.     It  read  as  follows  :  — 

Boston,  February  13,  18 — . 

"  My  dear  young  friend  :  In  presenting, 
in  behalf  of  my  daughter,  the  accompanying 
collection  of  books,  which  may  serve  to  while 
away  many  a  weary  hour,  and  which,  with 
God's  blessing,  will  Jdc  -a  benefit  as  well  as  an 
amusement  to  you,  I  desire  to  add  a  word  of 
counsel,  which  you  will  not  feel  too  personal, 
for  I  am  actuated  by  the  best  of  motives.  If 
it  prove  beneficial,  I  shall  be  well  paid. 

"  I  am  unable  to  express  my  happiness,  that 
the  efforts  of  your  many  friends  were  sufficient 
to  secure  the  influence  of  the  Court,  and  that 
your  punishment  was  so  slight,  in  view  of  the 
magnitude  of  the  offence. 


OFF    FOR    CHINA.  I/I 

"  You  no  doubt  feel,  as  you  have  good  rea- 
son to,  very  grateful  to  George  Hutchins,  who 
in  this  affair  only  manifested  a  magnanimity 
observed  by  his  friends  before,  and  who  ex- 
hibited a  spirit  of  Christian  forgiveness,  ,both 
rare,  and  worthy  of  example.  Others  have 
also  interested  themselves  in  your  welfare  ; 
and  their  action  in  your  behalf  will  ever  be 
remembered  gratefully  by  you. 

"  All  your  friends  unite  with  me  in  the  feel- 
ing that  you  are  now  truly  repentant,  and  in 
the  hope  that  your  future  will  be  brighter  in 
consequence  of  this  sea  of  trouble  through 
which  you   have  passed, 

"  Most  heartily  do  I  thank  God,  that  in 
addition  to  your  renunciation  of  many  habits 
which  probably  led  to  your  calamities,  you 
have  given  your  heart  to  God,  and  dedicated 
your  life  to  his  service.  You  may  be  said  now 
to  have  just  commenced  to  live,  and  if  this 
change  has  been  a  thorough  one  (which  we  all 
have  confidence  to  believe  is  true),  you  have 
before  you  a  great  work  to  do.  You  are  young, 
and  it  may  be  that  God  intends  to  give  you 


1/2  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

many  years  in  which  to  labor  for  him.  There 
are  thousands  of  persons,  old  and  young,  whom 
you  will  be  obliged  to  meet  and  associate  with, 
who  have  no  hope  and  are  without  God  in  the 
world.  A  word  fitly  spoken  by  you,  may  be 
the  means,  under  God,  of  changing  the  whole 
tenor  of  their  lives.  Omit,  then,  no  opportu- 
nity to  do  good.  Let  your  daily  life  be  such 
as  to  bring  no  stain  upon  the  holy  cause  you 
have  espoused.  Guard  well  your  words, 
thoughts,  and  acts,  that  they  may  be  pure  ; 
pure  for  your  own  sake,  pure  for  the  sake  of 
others  who  may  be  watching  your  example, 
and  pure  because  the  cause  is  pure,  made  so 
by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb. 

"  You  have  my  prayers  that  you  may  be  the 
instrument  in  God's  hand  of  leading  souls  to 
Christ,  and  in  praying,  hoping,  and  expecting 
this  much  of  you,  I  am  not  ignorant  that  you 
will  have  to  be  very,  very  watchful  that  you  do 
not  fall  into  your  old  habits.  I  do  not  say  this 
expecting  that  you  will,  but  Satan  is  artful,  and 
many  devices  will  be  brought  into  play,  to 
draw  you  from  the  cross.     I  have,  therefore, 


OFF    FOR    CHINA.  173 

devoted   more   time   to   this   particular  point, 
than  any  other. 

"  Be  watchful  over  yourself ;  live  near  the 
cross,  and  all  will  be  well.  Do  not  neglect 
prayer,  and  regular,  systematic  study  of  God's 
word.  Learn  all  you  can  of  the  plan  of  salva- 
tion, that  you  may  point  the  way  to  others. 

"  Be  diligent  in  temporal  matters.  Learn 
all  you  can  of  seamanship  while  you  are  gone, 
so  that  if  it  be  God's  will  that  you  should 
succeed  your  father  in  his  profession,  you 
may  be  the  sooner  prepared  for  it.  As  soon 
as  you  return,  if  I  am  living,  I  want  to  see 
you,  and  you  have  no  better  well-wisher  for 
your  temporal  and  spiritual  prosperity  than 
the  writer. 

"  I  trust  your  voyage  will  be  a  short,  profit- 
able, and  pleasant  one,  and  that  you,  and  all 
with  whom  you  are  connected,  may  sail  safely 
on  the  whole  voyage  of  life,  and  finally  cast 
anchor  in  the  port  of  heaven. 

"  I  am,  your  well  wisher, 

"  Horace   Barrett. 

"  To  Robert  Ashley,  on  board  ship  Lion." 


1/4  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

Robert  feeling  it  a  duty  to  send  some  reply 
to  his  benefactor,  sat  down  and  penned  the 
following,  which  he  sent  back  by  the  pilot :  — 

"  On  Board   Ship  Lion, 
Boston  Harbor,  Feb.  i6,  18 — . 

"Mr.  Horace  Barrett. 

"  My  Dear  Sir  :  I  am  very  much  obHged 
for  the  nice  present  your  daughter  was  so 
thoughtful  as  to  suggest  to  you,  and  also  grate- 
ful to  yourself  and  others  fop  making  so  good 
a  selection,  and  I  am  no  less  thankful  for  the 
good  advice  you  have  given  me,  and  shall  try 
and  live  up  to  it.  I  shall  pray  not  to  be  led 
back  to  sin,  and  shall  never  forget,  while  I  live, 
the  kind  friends,  who,  while  taking  care  of  my 
poor  body,  did  not  neglect  my  soul. 

"  I  thank  you  all.  May  God  be  merciful  to 
me,  and  make  me  a  good  man. 

"  Yours,  truly, 

"  Robert  Ashley." 

'Everything  continued  to  move  on  in  regu- 
larity at  the  store,  and  it  was  now  more  than  a 
year  since  George  first  entered  the  service  of 


OFF    FOR    CHINA,  175 

Messrs.  Wilder  &  Clark.  His  talent  for  busi- 
ness was  unmistakably  good,  and  as  the  entire 
time  of  two  was  not  required  in  the  counting- 
room,  George  had  acquired  quite  an  enviable 
reputation  as  a  salesman ;  in  fact  his  whole  de- 
meanor was  highly  satisfactory  to  his  employer. 
Mr.  Butler  remained  the  same  attentive,  al- 
ways present  book-keeper,  and  was  generally, 
in  pretty  good  temper,  but  occasionally,  his  old 
attacks  of  irascibility  would  return,  quite  as 
vehement,  and  to  George's  mind,  quite  as 
inexplicable,  only  they  took  a  different  course. 
He  would,  at  such  times,  (instead  of  keeping 
George  employed,  and  finding  fault  with  all  he 
did),  send  him  out  of  the  store  on  some  frivo- 
lous errand,  ostensibly  on  business,  but  really, 
as  George  often  suspected,  solely  to  be  rid  of 
his  presence. 

In  all  these  periodical  attacks,  George  pre- 
served the  same  quiet,  placid  manner,  so  pecu- 
liarly his  own,  and  no  hasty  reply  was  made, 
or  the  slightest  approach  to  irritabiHty  ob- 
served in  his  manner,  under  the  most  trying 
circumstances. 


176  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

Mr.  Clark,  the  junior  partner,  (and  the  one 
having  charge  of  the  New  York  branch), 
came  to  Boston  about  once  in  two  or  three 
months,  and  usually  remained  in  town  but  a 
day  or  two  ;  but  he  had  observed  George,  and 
liked  his  appearance,  and  the  attention  he 
paid  to  business.  Mr,  Clark  had  frequently 
alluded  to  this  in  his  conversations  with  Mr. 
Wilder,  and  at  first  jocosely,  but  subsequently 
with  more  seriousness,  expressed  his  desire  to 
take  the  young  man  to  New  York  with  him. 
To  this  Mr,  Wilder  had  always  objected  ;  but 
about  this  time,  Mr.  Clark,  being  in  Boston, 
told  his  partner  one  day,  that  he  needed  in 
New  York,  just  such  a  young  man  as  George, 
and  quite  earnestly  pressed  his  claim  for  his  ser- 
vices. To  be  sure,  if  George  did  go,  he  would 
be  still  in  their  employ,  but  Mr.  Wilder  was  a 
little  selfish ;  yet  not  wishing  to  appear  so  to 
his  partner,  he  proposed  to  mention  the  sub- 
ject to  George,  and  they  would  abide  his  de- 
cision. 

Accordingly,  he  was  called  into  Mr.  Wilder's 
room,  and  the  case  stated ;  to  which  George 
replied,  — 


OFF   FOR   CHINA.  1 77 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  have  done  so  well  that 
Mr.  Clark  is  willing  to  trust  me,  but  if  the 
matter  is  left  to  me,  I  shall  prefer  to  remain  in 
Boston.  I  am  attached  to  many  kind  friends 
whose  acquaintance  I  have  formed  since  com- 
ing here,  and  besides  this,  I  shall  be  nearer  to 
mother  if  I  stay." 

This  reply  pleased  Mr.  Wilder,  although  no 
outward  indication  of  gratification  of  the  one, 
or  disappointment  of  the  other,  was  apparent, 
and  Mr.  Clark  was  obliged  to  yield. 

12 


CHAPTER  XII. 


ILLNESS   AND    RECOVERY. 


NE  morning,  Mr.  Butler  came  into 
the  store,  complaining  of  feeling 
ill  He  had  caught  a  severe  cold 
by  having  worn  thinner  apparel  than  cus- 
tomary, and  was  suffering  from  a  severe  pain 
in  his  head,  which  increasing  in  intensity, 
he  was  obliged  to  adopt  Mr.  Wilder's  advice 
to  go  home,  although  at  first  he  positively  re- 
fused to  absent  himself  from  his  desk  a  single 
hour. 

He  boarded  at  some  distance  from  the  store, 
in  the  south  part  of  the  city,  and  was  so  much 
worse  on  reaching  his  home  that  a  physician  was 
at  once  called,  who  decided  that  he  had  strong 
indications  of  fever,  which  he  would  try  and 

1/8 


ILLNESS  AND  RECOVERY.        I/Q 

drive  off.  But  the  next  day  at  his  call,  so 
rapidly  had  the  malady  advanced  he  was  found 
raving  with  brain  disease.  He  was  a  strong, 
robust  young  man,  of  full  habit ;  had  never 
been  sick  a  day  in  his  life,  and  the  doctor 
wisely  conjectured,  that  from  these  facts,  his 
would  be  a  very  severe  illness  ;  and  so  it  proved 
to  be.  George  called  the  next  day  to  see 
him,  at  Mr.  Wilder's  request,  and  found  that, 
with  the  exception  of  one  distant  male  rel- 
ative (a  fellow-boarder),  Mr.  Butler  had  not  a 
friend  to  call  on  with  any  freedom,  in  his  hour 
of  necessity  ;  so  he  volunteered  his  services, 
whenever  they  might  be  required,  to  watch 
with  the  sick  man.  These  were  soon  needed, 
and  for  some  time,  he  was  by  the  afflicted 
man's  bedside  two  evenings  of  every  week,  as 
a  watcher. 

Mr.  Butler's  reason,  which  forsook  him  early 
in  his  illness,  was  long  in  returning,  and  at 
times  he  was  a  raving  maniac ;  but  he  was  so 
weak  that  he  could  do  no  damage  to  himself, 
or  others.  His  mind,  during  these  paroxysms, 
whenever    George    was    present,   seemed    to 


l80  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

dwell  on  business  ;  in  fact,  all  his  conversation 
was  on  that  subject.  In  imagination,  he  would 
be  employed  in  balancing  his  books,  or  a  trial 
sheet  was  to  be  taken  off.  Again,  he  was  in 
the  midst  of  stock  taking  ;  then  puzzling  over 
some  complicated  account,  which  would  not 
square  as  he  desired  and  expected.  New  faces 
would  appear  to  him,  and  he  would  conduct  a 
loud  and  excited  conversation  with  some  im- 
aginary custortier,  who  appeared  to  be  objecting 
to  his  account  as  stated  on  the  books  of 
Wilder  &  Clark.  This  peculiar  feature  was 
more  frequent  in  his  mind  than  any  other,  and 
his  manner  at  such  times  was  so  wild  and 
excited,  that  George  was  alarmed,  particularly 
as  when  their  eyes  met,  the  book-keeper 
would  call  his  name,  accompanying  it  with 
epithets  and  expletives  expressive  of  his  de- 
testation, and  fear  that  George  would  discover 
and  disclose  some  secret  which  appeared  to 
weigh  heavily  on  his  mind.  And  what  was 
very  singular,  whenever  these  turns  of  his 
delirium  occurred,  George  and  he  were  alone  ; 
and   from   the   fact   that   none   of    the   other 


ILLNESS  AND  RECOVERY.        l8l 

watchers  ever  alluded  to  it,  George  inferred 
that  it  was  his  presence  that  led  Mr.  Butler 
into  this  peculiar  train  of  thought.  George 
was  so  impressed  with  what  he  heard,  that  he 
was  frequently  determined  to  inform  Mr. 
Wilder.  But  on  reflection,  he  concluded  that 
it  was  only  the  working  of  the  disease,  and 
that  Mr.  Butler's  applicatipn  to  business  had ' 
been  so  incessant  and  regular,  that  there  was 
really  nothing  .  strange  about  it ;  while  he 
was  so  inexperienced  in  the  care  of  the  sick, 
that  he  presumed,  after  all,  that  there  was 
nothing  in  Mr.  Butler's  conversation  and  wan- 
derings of  mind  that  might  not  have  occurred 
in  the  case  of  any  one,  similarly  affected. 

Through  skilful  treatment  on  the  part  of 
the  physician,  and  the  constant  and  excellent 
attention  rendered  by  his  friends,  Mr.  Butler 
gradually  rallied,  but  it  was  a  long  time  before 
he  was  able  to  leave  his  room. 

Mr.  Wilder  had  called  often  during  his 
book-keeper's  illness  ;  and  now  he  was  con- 
valescent, he  visited  him  almost  daily,  and  as 
soon  as  he  was  able  to  leave  his  house,  Mr, 


1 82  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

Wilder's  carriage  was  placed  at  his  disposal, 
whenever  the  weather  was  favorable  for  a  ride. 
Frequently,  George  would  accompany  him  on 
these  excursions,  which  were  prolonged  from 
day  to  day,  as  the  invalid's  strength  warranted. 

One  pleasant  day,  as  they  were  riding,  Mr. 
Butler's  conversation  turned  on  his  recent 
illness,  and  he  asked  George  if  Mr.  Wilder 
had  said  anything  to,  him,  while  he  was  sick, 
about  business,  or  the  books.     George  said,  — 

"  No." 

"  Has  he  said  anything  about  me  at  allf  " 

"  No,  only  asking  every  day  about  your 
health,  and  expressing  pleasure  at  your  im- 
proved condition,"  said  George. 

"Well,  when  I  was  sickest,  I  was  crazy, 
was  I  not .''  " 

*'  Yes,  I  think  you  was." 

"Did  I  say  anything  myself,  about  busi- 
ness .'' " 

"  O,  yes  ;  you  seemed  to  be  working  as  hard 
as  if  you  had  been  at  your  desk." 

"  Did  I  appear  to  be  engaged  in  any  par- 
ticular brancJi  of  the  business  ?  or  was  there 


ILLNESS   AND    RECOVERY.  1 83 

any  one  thing  connected  with  the  business 
which  seemed  to  engross  my  mind  more  than 
another  ? " 

"  You  appeared  to  be  s'ettling  some  ac- 
counts, and  was  excited  and  annoyed  that  you 
were  unable  to  do  it  right." 

"  Was  Mr.  Wilder  present  on  such  occa- 
sions .-• " 

"  No,  he  was  never  there  during  any  of 
those  times ;  in  fact,  I  understand  he  did  not 
see  you  at  all,  while  your  mind  was  disturbed ; 
and,  although  he  called  almost  every  day,  he 
would  not  go  up  to  see  you,  as  he  said  he 
could  do  no  good,  and  it  was  best  to  keep 
you  as  quiet  as  possible." 

"  Well,  I  shall  be  able  to  go  to  the  store 
in  a  few  days,  and  then  I  shall  feel  easy  ;  but 
I  have  been  very  sick,  George,  and  my  atten- 
tion to  business  has  been  so  close  for  so  many 
years,  that  there  is  nothing  very  strange  in 
my  dwelling  on  it  in  my  sickness,  is  there  ?  " 

"  No,  on  the  whole,  I  do  not  think  there  is  ; 
on  the  contrary,  perhaps,  it  is  quite  usual  for 
persons  similarly  affected,  to  think  while  sick, 


1 84  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

of  what  was  on  their  minds  most,  while  in 
health." 

This  reply  did  not  appear  to  quite  satisfy 
Mr.  Butler,  for  he  added,  — 

"You  never  heard  during  all  my  sickness 
anything  that  would  give  you  a  bad  impression 
of  me,  either  from  my  own  lips  when  delirious, 
or  from  any  one  else  }  " 

George  could  say  with  truth  that  he  had 
not,  and  the  subject  was  dropped  ;  but,  so  far 
as  /le  was  concerned,  it  was  not  forgotten. 
He  could  now  recall,  with  terrible  distinctness, 
some  expressions  of  Mr.  Butler's  about  the 
books,  and  of  imprecation  on  that  "young 
saint,"  (as  during  his  illness  he  had  called 
George  more  frequently  than  by  his  name), 
and  he  feared  that  there  was  something  wrong 
after  all.  And  yet  there  had  been  nothing 
said  in  his  sickness,  or  since  he  began  to  re- 
cover, to  convince  him  that  such  was  the  case  ; 
and  he  was  forced  to  fall  back  on  his  old 
theory,  that  after  all  the  disease  had  created 
the  phantom.  Still  less  was  he  certain  enough 
to  justify  him  in  alluding  to  it  to  Mr.  Wilder, 


ILLNESS   AND   RECOVERY.  1 85 

although  if  he  had  known  positively  that  there 
had  been  anything  wrong  in  the  book-keeper's 
course,  his  sense  of  duty  would  have  led  him 
to  do  so,  no  matter  what  might  have  been 
the  result. 

Mr.  Butler  was  soon  able  to  go  to  the  store, 
and  ere  long  was  seen  at  his  desk,  with  his 
accustomed  regularity  and  application.  He, 
however,  came  too  soon  ;  his  physician  warned 
him,  his  friends  at  his  boarding-house  remon- 
strated, Mr.  Wilder  suggested  that  he  was  not 
strong  enough  to  resume  labor,  but  he  was  not 
to  be  advised.  He  tried  the  experiment,  and 
a  relapse  was  the  result.  It  did  not  appear 
in  the  same  form  as  before,  but  his  strength 
failed  him,  and  he  was  thought  to  be  rapidly 
declining  ;  but  here  again  his  naturally  strong 
constitution  prevailed,  and  he  eventually  be- 
came better,  after  many  weeks  of  confinement 
to  his  house. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


MORE   CRIME    DISCOVERED. 


HILE  Mr.  Butler  was  sick,  George 
was  employed  in  making  out  the  an- 
nual accounts,  and  mailing  them  to 
their  customers  abroad.  Among  these  accounts 
was  one  forwarded  to  a  western  firm,  Messrs. 
Swift  &  Brooks,  who  wrote  back  that  there 
was  a  material  discrepancy  between  their  ac- 
counts, but  that  one  of  the  partners  would  be 
in  Boston  in  a  few  weeks,  and  would  call  at 
the  store,  prepared  to  compare  statements. 

Mr.  Butler  had  recovered,  and  was  at  his 
desk,  one  morning,  writing.  George  was  en- 
tering a  recent  sale  on  the  book,  and  Mr. 
Wilder  was  looking  over  his  "  Notes  Receiv- 
able "  book  to  see  how  much  there  would  be 

1 86 


MORE   CRIME   DISCOVERED.  1 8/ 

forthcoming  the  ensuing  month,  when  a.  gen- 
tleman entered. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Brooks  ;  how  do  you 
do,  sir  > " 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Wilder." 

A  general  conversation  was  indulged  in  for 
a  few  moments,  when  the  stranger  remarked,  — 

"  I  received  your  statement  of  our  indebted- 
ness a  short  time  since,  but  it  does  not  agree 
with  our  books.  I  guess  this  time  Wilder  & 
Clark  have  made  an  error."  [He  smiled  when 
he  said  this.]  As  he  advanced  with  his  doc- 
uments in  his  hand,  Mr.  Wilder  introduced 
him  to  Mr.  Butler.  They  had  never  met  be- 
fore, as  Mr.  Brooks's  partner,  Mr.  Swift,  had 
transacted  the  business  in  Boston  during  Mr. 
Butler's  connection  with  the  books  of  Mr. 
Wilder. 

When  Mr.  Butler  heard  the  name,  he  turned 
suddenly  pale  and  almost  fainted,  attracting 
the  attention  of  all  present. 

"  Are  you  sick,  Mr.  Butler  ?  "  inquired  Mr. 
Wilder. 

"  N — no,   sir,   only   a    little    faint,"   almost 


1 88  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

'  gasped  the  book-keeper.  A  glass  of  water 
seemed  to  revive  him,  and  the  examination  of 
the  account  commenced,  Mr.  Wilder  taking 
his  ledger,  and  the  customer  his  memoranda, 
while  Mr.  Butler  looked  vacantly  on. 

"  We'll  take  our  charges  first,"  said  Mr. 
Wilder,  and  began  to  call  off,  while  Mr.  Brooks 
checked.  They  found  the  purchases,  as 
charged,  to  correspond  exactly  with  the  bills  of 
his  goods  which  Mr.  Brooks  held  in  his  hand, 
ready  to  produce,  should  an  error  be  discovered 
in  that  column. 

"  Now  for  your  credits,  Mr,  Brooks,"  said 
Mr.  Wilder  ;  then  added,  with  a  smile,  "  I  guess 
you'll  find  we  know  how  to  keep  books  after 
all.  My  credits  read  down  as  follows  :  I  will 
call  while  you  check  on  your  papers.  No  mat- 
ter about  dates  ;  let's  take  only  the  amounts. 

"  Note  six  months,  $879.52." 

"  Right." 

"  Sight  draft,  $1239.75." 

"  Right." 

"  Cash,  $  1 200." 

"  Right." 


MORE    CRIME    DISCOVERED.  189 

"  Note  six  months,  $787.50." 

"  Right." 

"  Note  nine  months,  $900." 

"  Right  ;  but  you  have  skipped  something." 

"  No,  I  haven't ;  you  must  be  wrong.  I  will 
call  again,"  and  he  repeated  just  as  before, 
Mr.  Brooks  checking  once  more,  so  as  to  pre- 
vent error,  until  he  came  to  the  nine  months' 
note  for  $900. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Wilder,  you  have  failed  to  give 
me  credit  for  $1250  cash  on  the  3d  of  July." 

"  We  didn't  receive  it,"  said  Mr.  Wilder,  and 
he  pulled  down  his  cash  book,  turned  hastily 
to  the  date  mentioned,  and  pointed  triumph- 
antly to  the  day  in  question,  as  well  as  to 
several  days  previous  and  subsequent  to  July 
3d.  "  There,"  said  he  exultingly,  "  didn't  I  tell 
you  we  didn't  receive  it .''  " 

"  I  can't  help  what  your  cash  book  says," 
replied  Mr.  Brooks  ;  "  I  have  your  receipt,  and 
here  it  is,"  saying  which,  he  took  from  his 
pocket  a  file  of  letters,  and  running  them  over, 
produced  one,  indorsed  "  Wilder  &  Clark, 
July3,  18— ." 


190  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

Mr.  Wilder  started ;  George  had  never 
.seen  him  so  excited  before.  "  How's  this  .'* 
Where's  Mr.  Butler  .■•  "     George  said,  — 

"  He  just  stepped  out  a  moment  ago,  while 
you  were  engaged  with  that  gentleman.  I  pre- 
sume he  is  not  far  off,  I  will  look  for  him," 
at  the  same  time  put.  on  his  hat  and  started 
in  search. 

"  Let  me  s^  that  receipt  and  letter  again," 
said  Mr.  Wilder. 

It  was  shown  him,  and  read  as  follows  :  — 


"^1250.  Boston,  July  3,  18—. 

"  Received  of  Messrs.  Swift  &  Brooks,  cash 

draft,  payable  to  our  own  order,  on  Messrs. 

&  Co.,   Boston,  for  twelve  hundred  and  fifty 

dollars. 

"Wilder  &  Clark, 

"  by  C.  Butler." 

Mr.  Wilder  opened    the    letter,   and    read 
slowly :  — 

"  Boston,  July  3.  18 — . 
"  Gentlemen  :     Your    communication,   en- 
closing sight  draft  for  ($1250)  twelve  hundred 


MORE   CRIME   DISCOVERED.  I9I 

and  fifty  dollars,  was  this  day  received, 'and 
is  passed  to  your  credit.  We  were  sorry  not 
to  have  received  an  order  for  goods  by  same 
mail,  but  shall  expect  to  hear  from  you  ere 
long. 

"  Our  Mr,  Wilder  is  now  in  New  York  ;  ex- 
pected home  day  after  to-morrow. 
"  We  remain  yours  truly, 

"Wilder  &  oLark, 

"  by  C.  Butler. 
"  To  Messrs.  Swift  &  Brooks." 

George  had  been  gone  about  fifteen  minutes, 
when  he  returned,  saying  that  he  had  been 
everywhere  he  could  think  Mr,  Butler  was  in 
the  habit  of  going,  but  without  finding  him. 

Mr.  Wilder  saw  criminality  in  the  conduct 
of  his  book-keeper,  but  kept  his  suspicions  to 
himself 

"  Take  a  carriage,  George,  and  drive  to  his 
house,  and  if  at  home,  request  him  to  come 
here  at  once.  Go  as  expeditiously  as  possible, 
and  I  will  wait  here  for  you."  [This  was  said 
in  an  undertone,  and  heard  only  by  the  young 


192  THE  BOSTON   BOY, 

man.]  When  George  had  gone,  Mr.  Wilder, 
with  a  heavy  heart,  but  disinclined  to  confess 
to  Mr.  Brooks  that .  anything  illegitimate  had 
occurred,  desired  that  gentleman  to  continue 
with  him  the  examination  of  the  accounts. 
This  was  done,  and  everything  else  found 
correct. 

"  Now  take  a  chair,  Mr.  Brooks,"  said  Mr. 
Wilder ;  "  I  expect  Mr.  Butler  in  presently,  and 
we  will  straighten  out  the  affair."  He  said 
this  in  an  apparently  careless  tone  of  voice, 
but  at  the  same  moment  he  was  feeling, 
"  Would  it  might  be  done  as  easily." 

He  could  not  sit  still.  Handing  Mr.  Brooks 
the  newspaper,  he  walked  out  of  his  counting- 
room  and  paced  the  floor,  lost  in  thought. 

- "  John,"  said  he  to  the  porter,  "  do  you  know 
if  Mr.  Butler  ever  lunches  down  town  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,  sometimes,  I  believe." 

"  Do  you  know  where  ? " 

«  Yes,  sir." 

"  Go  and  see  if  you  can  find  him  ;  tell  him 
I  want  to  see  him  immediately." 

In  the  course  of  time,  which  to  Mr.  Wilder 


MORE   CRIME   DISCOVERED.  1 93 

seemed  an  age,  but  which  was  really  very- 
short  for  the  distance,  George  returned,  with 
the  information  that  Mr.  Butler  was  not  at 
home,  and  had  not  been  home  since  dinner 
time  the  day  before.  John  soon  returned,  with 
no  information  of  the  missing  book-keeper. 
Mr.  Wilder  went  back  to  the  counting-room, 
where  he  had  left  his  customer  reading,  and 
said,  "  Mr.  Brooks,  there  is  something  in  this 
affair  I  do  not  understand.  Will  you  allow 
me  to  take  the  letter  and  receipt  for  the 
twelve  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  few  min- 
utes }  I  want  to  carry  it  to  the  banker's." 

"  Certainly,  take  it ;  I  have  other  business 
to  attend  to,  and  will  look  in  on  you  again.  T 
shall  want  to  see  some  goods,  and  I  may  not 
be  in  till  to-morrow." 

Mr.  Wilder  never  walked  to  State  Street  so 
fast  before.  He  went  in  to  see  the  banker, 
on  whom  the  draft  was  made,  and  asked  him 
if  he  would  oblige  him  by  looking  over  his 
files,  and  allowing  him  to  see  a  draft  (if  he 
had  one),  paid  July  3rd,  drawn  by  Swift  & 
Brooks,  and  payable  to  the  order  of  Wilder  & 
13 


194  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

Clark,  Search  was  made,  and  the  draft  found  j 
the  indorsement  examined  carefully  by  Mr. 
Wilder,  and  unhesitatingly  pronounced  a 
forgery  ! 

Mr.  Wilder  then  asked  the  banker,  with 
whom  he  was  well  acquainted,  if  he  would 
allow  him  to  take  the  draft  with  him,  prom- 
ising to  be  responsible  for  it,  which  request 
was  granted. 

Even  if  Mr.  Wilder  had  been  sure  that  Mr. 
Butler  was  the  author  of  the  forgery,  (as  he 
had  every  reason  to  believe  he  was),  and  could 
he  have  had  an  opportunity  to  talk  with  him, 
and  had  he  shown  signs  of  penitence,  it  is 
possible,  that  this,  being  his  first  offence,  would 
have  been  overlooked ;  for  in  this  case,  as  in 
every  other,  his  excellent  heart  would  have 
shrunk  from  a  public  exposure  which  must 
have  resulted  disastrously  to  the  culprit ;  and 
he  would  have  endeav'ored,  by  the  exercise  of 
kind  forbearance  and  forgiveness,  to  win  him 
back  to  rectitude  again.  But  he  had  placed 
implicit  confidence  in  him  ;  and  although  there 
were  many  disagreeable  ways  about  him,  he 


MORE   CRIME   DISCOVERED.  I95 

had  trusted  him  without  limit,  never  for  an  in- 
stant having  had  a  suspicious  thought  of  him 
from  the  very  first,  because  he  had  evinced  so 
much  care  for  his  interest,  and  had  been  so  un- 
weariedly  punctual  in  his  attention  to  his  du- 
ties (a  punctuality  and  a  constancy  which  was 
now  being  accounted  for  in  a  very  different  way 
from  what  Mr.  Wilder,  in  his  feeling  of  secu- 
rity, had  imagined).  But  what  was  he  to  do 
now  .<*  He  did  not  know  but  at  that  very  mo- 
ment, Butler  was,  in  the  name  of  the  firm, 
negotiating  for  funds,  with  which  to  make  his 
escape.  He  did  not  know  but  there  were  a 
hundred  such  cases  on  his  books  as  that  of 
Swift  &  Brooks,  and  which  time  only  could 
develop,  unless  Butler  could  be  found,  and  a 
confession  extorted.  He  did  not  know  but  he 
was  himself  a  bankrupt,  and  made  so  by  the 

duplicity  of  his  book-keeper.    

He  very  properly  went  first  to  his  bank,  to 
see  what  his  balance  was  :  that  he  found  right, 
so  far  as  his  memory  assisted  him  ;  he  ordered 
no  checks,  with  the  signature  of  his  firm,  to  be 
paid  at  the  bank  until  further  orders,  unless 


196  ^  THE   BOSTON   BOY, 

presented  personally  by  himself.  [This  he  ar- 
ranged in  such  a  way  as  to  excite  curiosity 
only,  no  feeling  of  suspicion  at  the  bank]. 
He  then  called  on  his  attorney,  who,  hearing 
the  whole  case,  told  him  that  immediate  and 
thorough  steps  must  be  taken  to  secure  the 
criminal,  and  the  services  of  the  police  were 
at  once  engaged. 

Butler's  boarding-house  was  searched,  but 
nothing  found  there  to  implicate  him,  so  noth- 
ing was  removed,  except  a  life-like  photograph, 
which  would  be  of  invaluable  service,  for  pur- 
poses of  identification. 

The  detective  wanted  to  know  something 
of  Butler's  associations,  who  were  his  com- 
panions, &c.  This  Mr,  Wilder  could  not  en- 
lighten him  on,  but  knowing  that  a  young  man, 
named  Carroll,  one  of  his  business  neighbors, 
was  engaged  to  Butler's  sister,  of  him  inquiry 
was  made. 

Mr.  Carroll  said  that  Butler  came  into  his 
office  at  about  noon,  and  stated  that  Mr,  Wild- 
er had  gone  from  the  store,  to  be  absent  till 
afternoon ;  that  a  bill  had  been  presented  for 


MORE    CRIME    DISCOVERED.  IQ/ 

payment ;  that  there  were  no  funds  drawn  to 
meet  the  demand,  and  he  had  borrowed  of 
Mr.  Carroll  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars, 
(the  amount  he  said  was  needed  at  the  store), 
until  Mr.  Wilder  should  have  returned.  Now 
both  Mr.  Wilder  and  the  detective  knew  that 
Butler  had  absconded. 

Telegrams  describing  him  were  sent  to  New 
York,  Albany,  Portland,  and  other  places  to 
which  he  might  have  fled,  and  requests  were 
made  that  officers  should  be  on  the  alert  to 
apprehend  him  if  discovered.  In  the  mean 
time,  the  detective,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Car- 
roll, sought  for  him  wherever  they  knew,  or 
supposed  he  was  ^  the  habit  of  visiting. 
From  Mr.  Carroll,  Mr.  Wilder  learned  some- 
thing of  which  he  had  been  entirely  ignorant 
before,  —  and  which  the  former  gentleman  had 
heard  from  Butler's  sister,  but  which  he  had 
forborne  to  inform  Mr.  Wilder,  from  a  disin- 
clination to  injure  or  disgrace  the  young  man 
and  his  relations,  his  own  interests  being  so 
closely  allied  to  the  family,  —  and  that  was, 
that  for  some  years  Butler  had  been  addicted 


198  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

to  the  habit  of  gambling  ;  but  he  added,  that  he 
had  been  informed  that  it  was  only  to  a  small 
extent,  and  his  belief  had  been  that  these 
gaming  propensities  had  been  gratified  from 
his  own  individual  resources,  he  never  for  a 
moment  having  suspected  that  Butler  had 
appropriated  a  dollar  of  Mr.  Wilder's  funds 
unlawfully,  for  any  purpose. 

Possessed  of  this  information,  the  detective 
passed  the  night  in  visiting  gaming-houses, 
but  with  no  success.  They  were  determined 
to  do  all  in  their  power  to  capture  him, 
although  it  was  probable  that  he  had  left 
the  city. 

Mr.  Wilder,  on  returning  to  the  store,  told 
George  what  he  had  discovered,  and  he  was 
overwhelmed  with  surprise  ;  but  as  this  was 
no  time  for  folding  hands,  even  if  such  a  pro- 
ceeding were  productive  of  any  good,  it  was 
determined  by  Mr.  Wilder  to  have  letters  ad- 
dressed to  all  his  debtors,  enclosing  a  state- 
ment of  the  balance  due  Wilder  &  Clark,  and 
requesting  an  immediate  reply  as  to  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  account.     This   involved  con- 


MORE   CRIME    DISCOVERED.  199 

siderable  labor,  and  more  time  than  any  one 
could  give,  so,  to  facilitate  the  process,  Mr. 
Wilder  asked  George  if  he  thought  Henry 
Clement  was  competent  to  assist  him,  if  he 
could  borrow  his  services  for  a  few  days. 
George  replied,  that  during  Mr.  Clement's 
prosperity,  Henry  had  enjoyed  unusual  facili- 
ties for  improvement  in  penmanship  and  book- 
keeping, and  his  assistance  would  be  valua- 
ble if  it  could  be  procured.  Fortunately,  Mr. 
Wilder  was  successful,  the  arrangement  was 
made,  and  that  very  night  the  two  young 
men  commenced  the  task.  They  were  to  draw 
off  the  accounts,  and  write  the  letters  of  a  uni- 
form pattern,  a  form  for  which  was  furnished 
them  by  Mr.  Wilder,  and  read  as  follows :  — 


'  Boston, 


"  My  dear  Sir  :  Accompanying  pleas6 
find  a  statement  of  your  account,  as  it  ap- 
pears on  our  books.  We  send  it  to  you  at 
this  time,  as  an  error  occurs  in  our  books,  and 
we  are  anxious  to  trace  it.     Hoping  you  will 


200  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

excuse  the  trouble  it  will  cause  you,  and  re- 
questing an  immediate  reply, 

"  We  are,  respectfully, 

"  Your  obedient  servants." 

These  statements  and  letters  were  to  be 
prepared  and  written  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
consistent  with  correctness,  and  placed  before 
Mr.  Wilder  as  soon  as  completed,  for  him  to 
sign  ;  then,  enclosing  a  stamp  for  the  reply, 
they  were  mailed.  Strict  silence  was  enjoined 
on  both  the  young  men  ;  they  were  told  to 
allude  to  it  to  no  one  ;  even  the  porter  of  the 
store  was  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  Mr.  But- 
ler's absence,  and  the  extra  amount  of  labor 
now  to  be  performed. 

Mr.  Wilder  left  them  to  carry  out  his  inten- 
tions, and  went  home,  telling  them  as  he  went, 
that  •  they  would  have  to  stay  till  late  in  the 
evening  for  many  days,  till  the  work  was  ac- 
complished. To  this  they  did  not  object,  for 
they  would  either  of  them  do  anything  in  their 
power  for  the  good  man  ;  and  George  was  only 
happy  that  the  education  he  had  received  at 


MORE    CRIME   DISCOVERED.  20I 

the  Commercial  College  was  so  soon  proving 
of  value  to  him.     Irritated,  and  with  an  aching 
heart,  Mr.  Wilder  turned  his  steps  homeward, 
but  not  without  a  feeling  of  thanksgiving  that 
he  still  had  in  George  one  in  whom  he  could 
implicitly  rely.     At  home  he  did  not  allude  to 
the  affair,  giving  as  a  reason  for  absence  from 
dinner,  press  of  business  ;  and  no  one  looking 
in  on  that  family  circle  that  evening  would 
have  imagined  that  anything  of  an  extraordi- 
nary nature  weighed  on  the  mind  of  the  hus- 
band and  father  ;  that  he  was  burdened  with 
the  knowledge  that  the  young  man   he   had 
been  like  a  parent  to  all  this  time,  had  shown 
so  much  ingratitude,  and  so  poorly  repaid  the 
many  kindnesses  of  which  he  had  been  the 
recipient ;  but  if  there  had  been  any  emotion 
of  anger  in  his  heart,  it  was  dispelled  whei^ 
on  the  conclusion  of  his  family  devotions,  in 
repeating  the  Lord's  prayer  (as  was  his  cus- 
tom), he  came  to  the  words,  "  Forgive  us  our 
trespasses,  as  we   forgive  those  who  trespass 
aL'^ainst  us." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


ANOTHER    ARREST. 


HE  young  men  wrote  at  their  desks 
at  the  store  until  nearly  twelve 
o'clock  that  night,  and  on  the  next 
morning  they  were  found  at  their  duty  at  an 
unusually  early  hour  by  Mr.  Wilder,  who  ex- 
pressed surprise  at  the  large  amount  of  labor 
already  accomplished.  A  minute  was  kept  of 
the  individuals  and  firms  addressed,  that  their 
names  could  be  checked  as  fast  as  intelligence 
should  be  received  from  them. 

Mr.  Brooks  came  in,  and  as  much  of  the 
affair  as  was  absolutely  necessary  was  told 
him.  Mr.  Wilder  being  satisfied  that  the 
transaction,  so  far  as  Messrs.  Swift  &  Brooks 
were  concerned,  was  a  correct  one,  gave  that 

202 


ANOTHER    ARREST.  203 

firm  credit  for  the  twelve  hundred  and  fifty- 
dollars  which  they  had  forwarded  in  good 
faith,  and  httle  as  he  felt  like  the  confinement 
it  imposed,  he  sold  Mr.  Brooks  a  large  bill 
of  goods. 

The  frequent  necessity  for  showing  goods 
during  the  day,  rendered  George's  position  one 
of  considerable  perplexity,  and  of  necessity 
retarded  the  work  on  the  books  ;  but  as  he 
passed  all  his  evenings  now  at  the  store,  the 
work  steadily  progressed,  Henry's  assistance 
being  very  important. 

Mr.  Wilder  had  telegraphed  to  Mr.  Clark  on 
the  day  of  the  discovery,  and  written  him  full 
particulars  since,  requesting  him  to  keep  of- 
ficers on  the  watch  in  New  York ;  but  it 
seemed  hardly  probable  that  Butler  would  ex- 
pose himself  in  that  city,  where  he  was  quite 
well  known  in  business  circles  as  the  book- 
keeper of  the  Boston  branch,  and  where  infor- 
mation of  his  presence  would  soon  reach  the 
ears  of  Mr.  Clark,  if  he  should  appear  in  pub- 
lic, and  thus  his  apprehension  be  made  cer- 
tain. 


204  '^^^    BOSTON    BOY. 

At  noon  of  the  second  day  after  the  dis- 
covery, a  gentleman  from  Providence  called  at 
the  store,  and  in  course  of  conversation,  re- 
marked, incidentally :  "  I  saw  Mr.  Butler  last 
night,  but  did  not  have  an  opportunity  to 
speak  with  him  ;  in  fact,  he  did  not  see  me." 
[He  had  presumed  that  Butler  was  in  Provi- 
dence on  business  for  Mr.  Wilder.] 

"Did  you.?  Where?"  asked  Mr.  Wilder, 
earnestly. 

"  On  Westminster  Street,  about  nine  o'clock." 

"Alone.?" 

"  No  ;  he  was  walking  up  the  street  with 
Fred  Harlow,  a  pretty  fast  fellow,  too,  he  is. 
I  was  surprised  to  see  Butler  in  his  company ; 
but  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  You  look 
queerly.     Nothing  wrong,  is  there  ? " 

"  My  dear  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Wilder,  "  I  did 
not  intend  to  speak  of  Butler,  or  any  of  the 
circumstances  over  which  I  am  now  mourning, 
and  which  are  nearly  crushing  me  to  any  one 
at  present ;  but  you  are  an  old  friend,  and 
you  may  have  it  in  your  power  to  assist  me." 
He  then  related  the  principal  incidents  of  the 


ANOTHER   ARREST.  205 

sad  affair,  concluding  by  saying  that  he  should 
notify  the  police  at  once,  and  the  information 
he  had  just  received  would  probably  result  in 
sending  an  officer  to  Providence  to  look  Butler 
up,  and  that  his  friend  could  undoubtedly  ren- 
der valuable  assistance  to  the  officer  by  fur- 
nishing information  of  persons  and  places.  To 
this  the  gentleman  heartily  assented,  saying, — 

"  I  shall  go  home  to-night ;  any  service  it 
is  in  my  power  to  perform  in  your  interest, 
you  may  depend  on  ;  you  have  my  sympathy, 
and  you  shall  have  my  aid." 

As  Mr.  Wilder  had  expected,  a  detective  of- 
ficer was  sent  to  Providence,  and  two  days  and 
nights  spent  in  search,  in  which  he  was 
assisted  by  Mr.  Wilder's  friend,  and  an  officer 
of  Providence.  Every  known  gaming-house, 
every  house  of  ill  repute  or  even  questionable 
character,  was  visited,  but  no  trace  found. 
Harlow,  with  whom  he  had  been  seen,  was 
conferred  with,  but  he  professed  to  believe 
that  Butler  came  down  on  business,  and  re- 
turned on  the  early  morning  train.  He  was 
asked  at  what  hotel  he  stopped,  but  even  on 
this  subject,  he  plead  ignorance. 


206  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

At  last  the  detective  concluded  to  take 
the  evening  steamboat  train  to  New  York, 
thinking  that  Butler's  friends,  suspecting 
danger,  had  hurried  him  off  to  that  city.  He 
accordingly  entered  the  cars,  and  quietly 
took  his  seat.  He  had  no  hopes  of  finding 
him  on  board  the  train,  so  he  muffled  himself, 
and  sat  in  a  half  doze  until  the  arrival  of  the 
train  at  Stonington,  where  the  cars  were  ex- 
changed for  the  boat ;  then,  going  on  board,  he 
stepped  up  to  the  clerk's  office  to  procure  his 
state-room  key ;  while  waiting  for  his  turn, 
his  eyes  fell  on  a  young  man,  whose  counte- 
nance struck  him  as  remarkably  like  the 
photograph  he  had  seen  of  Butler ;  so  im- 
pressed was  he,  that  he  determined  to  keep 
a  sharp  look-out  for  him,  and  watch  his  move- 
ments closely.  They  both  arrived  at  the 
clerk's  window  at  the  same  instant,  and  the 
officer  fell  back  a  little,  to  enable  the  stranger 
to  advance  first. 

"  I  want  a  state-room,"  said  the  young  man, 

"  What  name  ? "  inquired  the  clerk. 

"  William  Bates,"  was  the  reply. 


ANOTHER    ARREST.  20/ 

The  ticket  was  given,  tlie  number  of  which 
the  detective  heard  called,  and  then  hastened 
for  his  own  key,  and  followed  on.  Supper 
was  ready,  and  both  repaired  to  the  cabin ; 
after  supper,  those  of  the  passengers  who 
desired  to  smoke,  went  forward  to  indulge. 
Mr.  Bates  was  one  of  the  number,  and  was 
joined  by  the  ofQcer,  who,  drawing  a  cigar 
from  his  case,  asked  for  a  light.  This  was 
courteously  granted,  and  in  a  moment  they 
•were  engaged  in  conversation. 

"  If  Bates  is  my  man,  he  is  a  shrewd  one," 
thought  the  officer,  for  with  all  his  adroitness 
he  failed  to  cause,  by  look,  word,  or  act,  any 
evidence  of  guilt  to  escape  him.  As  they  be- 
came more  intimate  and  communicative,  the 
detective  'broached  the  subject  of  crime  in 
general:  this  was  brought  around  in  a  very 
delicate  and  natural  manner,  and  no  suspi- 
cion created.  Bates  not  only  entering  freely 
into  the  subject,  but  volunteering  many 
remarks,  of  a  moralizing  character,  in  regard 
to  the  fearful  increase  of  wickedness  in  the 
land. 


208  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

After  quite  a  continued  conversation  on 
this  subject,  the  officer  ingeniously  called 
attention  to  the  frequency  of  defalcations, 
alluding  to  one  or  two  large  ones  which  had 
come  to  light  within  a  few  weeks  in  New 
York  city,  and  reports  of  which  had  sur- 
prised and  shocked  the  whole  community. 
Mr.  Bates  was  quite  as  willing  to  converse 
on  that,  as  on  others  matters,  and  the  officer 
was  almost  induced  to  consider  this  a  case 
of  mistaken  identity,  when  it  occurred  to  him 
that  he  would  change  his  policy ;  so  he  ex- 
pressed it,  as  his  opinion,  that  extravagance 
in  dress,  and  fondness  for  fast  horses,  and 
gambling  mania,  brought  many  a  young 
man  into  a  position  from  whicn  he  was 
unable  to  extricate  himself  honorably,  and 
he  would  be  tempted  to  borrow  a  little  money 
of  his  employer  without  his  knowledge,  hop- 
ing "  luck "  would  assist  him  in  refunding  it, 
and  so  go  on  little  by  little,  until  the  peniten- 
tiary closed  the  victim's  career ;  that  prob- 
ably none  of  those  persons,  who  were  now 
serving    their    sentences   in   the    prisons   for 


ANOTHER   ARREST.  209 

these   offences,  intended   to    defraud    at   the 
outset. 

Bates  had  imagined  all  this  time  that  his 
companion  was  either  a  merchant  or  a  banker. 
His  dress,  appearance,  manner,  and  conver- 
sation combined  to  foster  this  delusion,  and 
observing  this,  the  oflEicer  took  care  not  to 
undeceive  him  ;  so  Bates,  in  answer  to  some 
recital  of  his  companion,  mentioned  some 
young  men  of  his  acquaintance  who  had  been 
brought  up  under  religious  influences  at 
home,  but  coming  to  the  city,  had  first  de- 
sired to  dress  better  than  their  means  would 
permit,  then  some  of  their  friends,  driving  fast 
horses,  they  must  do  so,  too  ;  then  they  would 
go  to  a  gambling-house,  from  curiosity,  and 
seeing  others  winning  so  easily,  they  would 
risk  a  httle  money,  then  a  little  more;  now 
winning,  and  then  losing,  until  not  only 
had  the  habit  become  so  fixed  as  to  make 
it  impossible  to  break  it  off,  but  their  pecula- 
tions were  too  extensive  to  permit  of  a 
restitution. 

Betting  on  horse-races  was  spoken  of  as 
14 


2IO  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

lamentably  prevalent  among  young  men, 
clerks  in  stores  and  banks.  "  Yes,"  said 
the  officer,  "Providence  is  quite  a  place  for 
horse-racing,  is  it  not.-*  You  are  a  resident 
there,  I  imagine." 

"N — no,  —  or,  yes,  I  am  now,''  said  Bates, 
hesitatingly,  and  exhibiting  just  a  little  em- 
barrassment in  his  manner,  which  the  officer 
did  not  fail  to  observe. 

"  Do  you  know  a  man  by  the  name  of 
Harlow  in  Providence .-'  he  is  a  lover  of  the 
turf,  I  believe,"  said  the  officer. 

"  Yes,  I  know  him,  or  rather  know  of  him." 

"Providence  is  rather  a  pleasant  place  for 
a  residence,  is  it  not  .-* "  inquired  the  de- 
tective. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bates,  having  now  fully  re- 
covered his  equanimity,  "  I  used  to  live  in 
Boston,  but  I  like  Providence  better ;  still, 
I  think  I  should  prefer  New  York,  to  either." 

"How  long  have  you  lived  in  Provi- 
dence .-* " 

"O,  a  few  weeks  only,  or  months  rather," 
said  Bates,  a  little  flurried. 


ANOTHER    ARREST.  2 1  I 

The  officer  turned  abruptly  round,  and 
looking  Bates  steadily  in  the  eye,  asked 
him,  — 

"  Do  you  know  a  firm  in  Boston  of  the  style 
of  Wilder  &  Clark  ? " 

A  pistol  unexpectedly  discharged  at  his  side 
could  not .  have  started  Bates  any  more  ;  but 
hesitating  to  reply  to  this,  the  next  remark 
settled  the  whole  matter. 

"  Mr.  Butler,  I  have  a  warrant  for  your  ar- 
rest ;  you  are  my  prisoner,  on  a  charge  of  em- 
bezzlement." 

Bates,  or  Butler  as  we  shall  now  call  him, 
shook  from  head  to  foot.  He  was  as  tractable 
as  a  child.  The  strategy  of  the  officer  had 
proved  successful.  Suffering  himself  to  be  led 
by  the  arm  to  a  less  frequented  part  of  the 
boat,  the  officer  told  him  that  he  must  accom- 
pany him  a  prisoner  to  his  state-room,  and  he 
should  detain  him  in  New  York  until  the 
necessary  papers  for  his  removal  to  Massachu- 
setts should  have  been  executed.  Guilty  as  he 
was  of  an  enormous  offence,  and  comparatively 
hardened  as  he  must  have  been,  he  had  not 


212  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

sufficient  command  over  himslf  to  feign  igno- 
rance or  innocence  under  the  piercing  eye 
of  the  experienced  detective ;  and  in  his 
case,  as  in  thousands  of  other  instances,  Sa- 
tan leads  into  trouble,  but  rarely  defends 
his  victims  when  they  find  themselves  in  his 
meshes. 

Butler  was  conducted  to  the  state-room  of 
his  companion,  where  the  two  remained  until 
the  arrival  of  the  boat  in  New  York,  when  he 
was  safely  lodged  in  the  Tombs. 

A  telegram  was  at  once  sent  to  Mr.  Wilder, 
and  Mr.  Clark  notified.  The  latter  visited 
Butler  at  his  cell,  but  found  him  exceedingly 
reticent  and  downcast,  heartily  ashamed  of 
himself;  and  now,  fully  realizing  the  terrible 
disgrace  he  had  brought  upon  himself  and 
family,  he  would  not  converse,  and  only  re- 
plied to  questions  propounded,  in  monosyl- 
lables. 

What  would  he  not  have  given  to  have  been 
placed  back  to  the  position  he  occupied  a  year 
ago  ?  TJien  his  crime  had  not  been  committed, 
he  enjoyed  his  employer's  confidence,  and  had 


ANOTHER    ARREST.  213 

an  excellent  prospect  of  a  promotion  to  a 
partnership  in  a  firm  he  had  heretofore  so 
faithfully  served.  Now  he  was  a  criminal,  in 
a  felon's  cell,  with  a  prospect  before  him 
of  spending   many  years   in   a  prison. 


CHAPTER    XV. 


THE   PROMOTION. 


OUR  days  after  his  arrest  found  But- 
ler in  the  jail  at  Boston,  and  on  the 
day  of  his  arrival  Mr.  Wilder  called 
on  him,  —  and  what  a  meeting  that  was  !  It 
was  a  touching  scene. 

The  strong  man  bowed  down  with  sorrow, 
not  so  much  on  account  of  the  loss  he  already 
knew  he  had  sustained,  but  because  he  had 
good  reason  to  fear  he  should  ere  long  know  of 
more  of  his  late  book-keeper's  embezzlement ; 
and  the  latter,  so  changed  from  his  manner 
when  first  arrested,  endeavored,  with  only  par- 
tial success,  to  maintain  a  demeanor  of  uncon- 
cern. After  the  first  outburst  of  sorrowful 
indignation  on  the  part  of  Mr,  Wilder,  which 

214 


THE   PROMOTION.  215 

had  apparently  no  effect  on  Butler,  the  former 
controlled  himself  sufficiently  to  ask  why  he 
had  done  so. 

"  O,  Charles,  you  know  how  much  confidence 
I  have  always  placed  in  you.     I  never  suspected 
you  of  anything  dishonest  in  my  life.     I  in- 
creased your  salary  from  year  to  year,  without 
a  hint  from  you  that  it  would  be  wanted.     I 
granted  you  all  the  liberty  you  asked ;  nay,  I 
urged  you  to  take  recreation  time  after  time, 
which  you  declined.     I  supposed  your  object 
in  refusing  it  was  on  account  of  the  interest 
you  felt  in  my  business,  and  yet  you  have  been 
months,  I  don't  know  but  years,  robbing  me, 
and  your  constant  attendance  at  your  desk  has 
been   occasioned   by  your  fear  to  leave  your 
books  exposed  to  my  scrutiny.     I    placed  so 
much  reliance  in  you,  that  for  years  I   have 
not    examined    them   with    a    view   to    their 
correctness ;    and   yet   you   have   abused   my 
trust  in  you,  to  how  great  an  extent  I  do  not 
know ;  but  I  have  taken  steps  to  have  your 
accounts  adjusted,  and  shall  know  before  long 
whether  I  am  actually  ruined  or  not." 


2l6  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

To  all  this  Butler  preserved  a  stoical  indif- 
ference and  a  resolute  silence. 

"  And  what  adds  to  my  sorrow,"  continued 
he,  "  is  the  manner  in  which  you  hear  all  this. 
No  contrition ;  no  explanation  ;  no  answer  at 
all."  Then,  for  the  first  time,  Butler  growled 
out,  — 

"  You  have  made  your  charge ;  now  prove 
it." 

"I  shall  have  to,  Charles.  I  would  gladly 
screen  you  from  the  punishment  your  offence 
will  inevitably  receive  ;  but  I  cannot.  I  shall 
see  you  again.  I  am  not  angry.  I  have  not 
lived  all  my  years  without  seeing  something 
of  trouble,  —  loss  of  friends,  and  many  serious 
legitimate  losses  ;  but  I  never  met  with  a  mis- 
fortune which  affected  my  heart  as  this  ;  no 
loss,  in  every  respect,  its  equal.  The  financial 
loss  is  comparatively  nothing ;  but  I  have  lost 
my  confidence  in  one  I  have  looked  upon  as 
incorruptible.  Do  take  the  right  view  of  this 
matter,  and  when  I  see  you  again,  do  feel  sor- 
rowful for  what  you  have  done,  and  a  part  of 
my  distress  will  be  relieved. 


THE   PROMOTION.  21/ 

"  I  suppose  it  would  be  folly  to  ask  you  how 
much  beside  the  twelve  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars you  have  appropriated,  —  would  it  not  ? " 

"  I  have  no  confessions  to  make.  You  made 
the  charge,  now  prove  it,"  repeated  Butler,  in 
the  same  tone  as  before. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Wilder  (and  now  the  strong 
man  wept),  "  Well,  Charles,  it  will  be  a  long 
time  before  I  recover  from  this  shock.  I  don't 
know  but  you  have  made  me  a  bankrupt.  O, 
that  I  should  have  lived  to  see  this  day ! "  and, 
without  trusting  himself  to  say  more,  he  hur- 
ried from  the  jail. 

The  labor  on  the  books,  and  in  preparing 
and  mailing  the  inquiries  into  his  customers' 
accounts  had  been  finished,  and  Mr.  Wilder 
was  contemplating  the  employment  of  some 
one,  perhaps  an  expert,  to  examine  and  adjust 
his  books.  To  do  this,  he  called  on  his  friend, 
the  experienced  proprietor  of  the  Commercial 
College,  to  ask  him  to  recommend  some  one 
to  perform  the  duty  correctly,  and  in  the  short- 
est possible  time.     Said  the  teacher,  — 

"  What    has    become   of    that  young   man 


2l8  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

Hutchins?  He  has  not  left  your  employ- 
ment, I   hope,  has   he  ? " 

"  No,  indeed  ;  I  am  glad  to  say  he  is  with 
me  yet.  I  consider  him  a  jewel,  as  my  friend, 
Mr.  Barrett,  often  calls  him." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  teacher,  why  don't 
you  let  him  do  it.^" 

"  What,  he  }  He  isn't  competent,  is  he  .-• " 
asked  Mr.  Wilder. 

"As  thoroughly  competent  as  any  one  I 
could  suggest.  No  young  man  ever  graduated 
from  this  school  with  a  better  general  business 
education.  I  could  name  others  who  have 
had  more  practice,  perhaps,  since  they  left 
here,  but  he  is  as  well  qualified  to  perform 
the  service  as  any  one  ;  and  if  the  case  were 
mine,  he  should  do  it.  You  still  continue  to 
have  confidence  in  him,  do  you  not .-' " 

"As  much  as  I  have  in  myself;  and  I  am 
very  glad  to  find  assistance  so  near  home. 
But  if  he  is  competent  to  examine  my  ac- 
counts, and  detect  errors,  if  any  exist,  why  is 
he  not  able  to  keep  a  set  of  books  correctly. 
I  have  reason  to  fear  that  they  are  incorrect, 


THE    PROMOTION.  2I9 

and  my  former  book-keeper  will  have  charge 
of  them  no  longer." 

"  He  is  capable,  Mr,  Wilder,  and  I  can  rec- 
ommend him  without  hesitation." 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Wilder,  "  and  shall 
make  the  experiment.  His  modesty  has  prob- 
ably prevented  his  praising  himself,  and  so  I 
have  been  kept  in  ignorance  of  his  qualifica- 
tions." 

"  George,"  said  Mr,  Wilder,  on  his  return  to 
the  store,  "  who  can  I  get  to  keep  the  books 
now  Mr.  Butler  has  gone  ?  Do  you  know  of 
any  one  who  can  come  }  " 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  George. 

"  I  thought  you  studied  book-keeping  at  the 
Commercial  College  .'' " 

"  I  did,  sir," 

"  Then  how  is  it  your  are  not  able  to  under- 
take it,?"  ■  ^  ' 

"  I  think  I  am,  sir," 

"  What  ? "  asked  Mr.  Wilder,  and  the  near- 
est approach  to  a  smile  for  many  daj'-s  played 
over  his  face  for  a  moment.  "  What .''  Why 
did  you  not  tell  me  before  ?  " 


220  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

"  First,"  said  George,  smiling,  "  because  you 
never  asked  me  ;  and  second,  because  I  didn't 
know  you  would  care  about  my  doing  it." 

"  Do  you  consider  yourself  competent  to 
assume  the  sole  control  of  my  books,  and 
keep  them  correctly  after  having  made  a 
thorough  examination  of  them  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Wilder. 

"  I  do,  sir." 

"  Very  well,  then,  I  shall  give  you  Mr.  But- 
ler's position,  and  you  may  commence  your 
duties  at  once. 

"  At  the  time  you  were  receiving  your  pres- 
ents for  the  act  of  humanity  for  which  we  all 
felt  so  grateful,  I  had  it  in  my  mind  to  make 
you  some  testimonial  of  my  regard  and  appre- 
ciation, but  no  favorable  opportunity  was  af- 
forded. But  I  have  not  forgotten  the  act  or 
the  actor ;  and  I  take  this  opportunity  to  ex- 
press, in  a  partial  way,  my  recognition  of  your 
services  by  appointing  you  my  book-keeper,  to 
date  from  the  day  Mr.  Butler  left  the  desk,  at 
a  salary  of,  at  present,  one  thousand  dollars 
per  annum.     Do  as  well  in  your  new  position 


THE   PROMOTION.  221 

as  you  have  in  your  old  one,  and  I  shall  be 
perfectly  satisfied.  Your  salary  shall  be  in- 
creased as  your  services  may  warrant." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  a  thousand  times,  and  will 
endeavor  to  prove  worthy  of  th6  confidence 
reposed  in  me." 

During  this  conversation  (which  took  place 
in  Mr.  Wilder's  private  ofiice),  Henry  was  at ' 
work  at  the  desk  in  the  counting-room,  and  it 
was  intended  to  have  dispensed  with  his  ser- 
vices that  very  day  had  Mr.  Wilder  provided 
himself  with  a  book-keeper  from  any  other 
source.  So  when  it  had  been  decided  for 
George  to  assume  the  duties  just  assigned  him, 
Mr.  Wilder  asked  him  if  he  should  like  Hen- 
ry's services  permanently,  if  they  could  be  se- 
cured, for,  said  he,  — 

"The  concern  he  has  been  with  is  going 
out  of  business  very  soon,  and  if  it  is  ad- 
visable we  can  retain  him,  and  if  you  think 
him  capable,  he  may  take  your  late  posi- 
tion." 

"  P,  yes,  sir,  he  is  capable,  perhaps  more  so 
than  I  ;  and  he  would  like  to  be  here  always. 


222  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

It  would  be  very  pleasant  for  both  of  us,"  an- 
swered George. 

"  Call  him  in  here,"  said  Mr.  Wilder.  Henry 
came. 

"  Henry,  1  have  appointed  George  my  book- 
keeper, leaving  a  vacancy.  Your  firm  is  to  go 
out  of  business,  and  if  you  would  like  to  stay 
with  us,  I  am  disposed  to  keep  you,  and  pay 
you  the  same  salary  as  George  has  been  re- 
ceiving .''     Are  you  disposed  to  remain  ? " 

"  I  am,  sir,  and  obliged  to  you  besides,"  an- 
swered Henry. 

"  Very  well,  then,  if  the  plan  can  be  accom- 
plished, as  I  have  no  doubt  it  can,  I  may  as 
well  see  to  it  at  once."  The  arrangement  was 
effected,  and  Mr.  Wilder  returned. 

"  Now,  then,  it  is  settled,"  said  he.  "  You 
will  both  do  your  duty,  I  am  sure,  and  I  shall 
take  pleasure  in  doing  anything  in  my  power 
to  promote  the  happiness  of  both  of  you. 
George,  draw  a  check  for  twenty-five  dol- 
lars, and  bring  it  to  me  to  sign."  It  was  done. 
Turning  to  Henry,  Mr.  Wilder  said,  — 

"  Henry,  your  regular  employment  with  me 


THE   PROMOTION.     •  223 

commences  to-day.  This  check  you  will  ac- 
cept for  your  assistance  the  past  few  days  on 
my  accounts." 

With  thanks  Henry  accepted  the  donation, 
and  returned  to  his  employment. 

The  mail  now  regulai;ly  brought  replies  from 
parties  who  had  been  addressed  on  the  subject 
of  their  accounts  ;  and  so  far,  everything  cor- 
responded with  the  statements  on  the  books. 
Still  Mr.  Wilder  did  not  feel  safe,  for  there 
were  yet  many  to  hear  from  ;  in  fact  none  of 
their  heaviest  accounts  had  been  verified,  and 
as  near  as  he  could  judge  all  of  Butler's  em- 
bezzlement must  have  been  done  in  the  same 
way  as  in  the  case  of  Swift  &  Brooks ;  that  is, 
if  money  was  sent  by  mail,  he  would  appro- 
priate a  part  or  the  whole  of  the  remittance 
himself,  and  receipt  for  it  in  the  name  of  his 
employers,  but  of  course  make  tio  entry  on  the 
cash-book  or  ledger,  and  trust  to  luck  in  set- 
tlement to  cover  up  the  affair  till  time  and 
opportunity  was  afforded  to  make  a  false  entry 
and  balance  the  account. 

Another  pile  of  letters  came  by  the  after- 


224  •  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

noon  mail,  and  among  them  was  a  statement 
of  a  balance  from  a  Milwaukie  house  which 
did  not  correspond  with  their  books,  and  in 
which  they  found  a  deficit  of  one  item,  fifteen 
hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars  ;  and  before 
the  week  closed  four  others,  in  smaller  sums, 
amounting  in  the  aggregate  to  four  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars. 

They  had  at  last  heard  from  all  their  cus- 
tomers, and  received  full  and  indisputable 
■*  evidence  of  Butler's  guilt  in  every  in- 
stance. He  was  still  in  jail  awaiting  de- 
velopments. 

George's  good  fortune  in  promotion  placed 
him  in  a  position  to  gratify  a  long  cherished  hope 
that  his  mother  might  take  a  house  in  Boston, 
and  he  once  more  have  a  home.  Accordingly 
he  wrote  to  her,  informing  her  of  the  sad  affair 
at  the  store,  in  tvhich  Mr.  Butler  was  implica- 
ted, and  which  led  to  his  preferment  and  con- 
sequent increase  of  salary,  adding,  that  his 
necessary  absence  from  her  had  always  de- 
tracted from  the  pleasure  he  found  in  his  resi- 
dence in  Boston,  and  requested  her  to  think 


THE   PROMOTION.  22$ 

favorably  of  his  plan  to  lease  a  house  in  the 
city,  and  move  as  soon  as  possible.  She, 
ready  at  all  times  to  oblige  her  son  when  the 
means  lay  in  her  power,  was  really  gratified 
herself  by  acceding  to  his  proposition,  and  a 
very  comfortable  house  was  provided  for  them. 
Mrs.  Hutchins  had  an  opportunity  to  lease  her 
house  in  the  country,  and  in  a  few  weeks  they 
were  cosily  located  in  their  new  home,  and 
Henry  (for  thp  two  young  men  were  still 
almost  inseparable)  came  to  board  with 
them. 

The  intelligence  of  the  proposed  removal 
was  received  with  the  most  unmistakable  in- 
dications of  regret  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Rice 
and  her  whole  household,  with  whom  George 
had  so  long  been  a  favorite,  and  in  whose  foot- 
steps Henry  was  so  faithfully  following ;  and 
had  the  change  not  been  for  the  purpose  of 
uniting  mother  and  son,  it  is  probable  that  the 
strong  and  continuous  arguments  so  strenu- 
ously urged  to  induce  George  to  reconsider 
his  determination  to  leave,  would  have  proved 
successful ;  but  as  it  was,  Mrs.  Rice  was  the 
15 


226  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

first  to  see  the  propriety  of  the  step,  appre- 
ciating, as  she  could,  a  mother's  feeHngs  un- 
der the  circumstances  ;  and  regretting,  as  she 
did,  the  necessity  of  losing  so  excellent  in- 
mates of  her  family,  she  could  conscientiously 
interpose  no  objection  ;  and  it  is  also  probable 
that,  would  Mrs.  Hutchins  have  consented  to 
such  an  arrangement,  all  Mrs.  Rice's  family 
would  have  emigrated ;  but  it  was  her  desire, 
and  that  of  her  son,  that  their  establishment 
should  be  a  home  for  both,  —  an  object  that 
would  have  been  defeated  if  any  addition  were 
made  to  their  family. 

In  the  case  of  Henry,  his  connection  with 
George  had  been  of  so  long  duration,  and  the 
associations  of  the  family  were  of  so  agreeable 
a  nature,  and  had  been  so  for  so  many  years, 
that  she  considered  him  more  in  the  light  of  a 
relation  than  an  interloper. 

Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barrett  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Wilder  were  very  much  pleased  at  the 
prospect  of  having  Mrs.  Hutchins  and  her 
son  so  near  them ;  and  Mary,  who  looked 
upon  the  old  lady  as  a  second  parent,  was  in 


THE   PROMOTION.  22/ 

almost  every  day,  at  some  hour,  either  in 
going  to,  or  returning  from  school,  to  see 
"  Mother  Hutchins."  And  her  sterling  Chris- 
tian character  soon  won  for  her  warm  friends 
in  the  church,  in  which  she  early  secured  seats 
for  herself  and  family. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


THE   VOYAGER   RETURNED. 


T  last  the  evidence  was  all  in,  and 
the  grand  jury  found  a  bill  against 
Charles  Butler.  He  was  put  under 
heavy  bonds  for  his  appearance  at  the  next 
term  of  court  for  trial,  which  his  future 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  Carroll,  furnished,  and  the 
disgraced  young  man  was  once  more  at  lib- 
erty. At  the  appointed  time  the  case  was 
called  up,  witnesses  were  summoned  for  the 
prosecution  and  in  attendance,  but  no  prison- 
er!  He  had  taken  advantage  of  his  temporary 
liberty  to  make  good  his  escape,  and  justice 
was  defrauded  of  her  victim  ;  and  determined, 
as  Mr.  Wilder  had  schooled  himself  to  be,  to 
prosecute  to  the  end  (and  the  evidence  was 

228 


THE  VOYAGER  RETURNED.       229 

SO  cle§ir  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  the 
result),  it  must  be  confessed  that  he  was  not 
sorry  that  it  had  terminated  as  it  had,  for  the 
treachery  of  an  own  son  could  not  have  af- 
fected him  more  ;  and  he  had  a  horror  of  the 
thought  of  sending  the  poor  young  man  to  the 
penitentiary,  where  his  testimony  alone  would 
most  assuredly  have  consigned  him. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  ship  Lion  was  due. 
Robert  and  his  father  had  been  heard  from 
once.  George  had  received  a  letter  from 
Hong  Kong,  in  which  the  former  had  written 
the  glorious  news  that  his  father  had  given 
his  heart  to  God.  The  particulars  of  that  and 
his  own  experience  at  sea  and  in  a  foreign 
country  were,  however,  reserved  until  he  should 
have  returned.  He  enclosed  messages  to  be 
delivered  to  all  the  kind  friends  who  had  in- 
terested themselves  in  his  behalf,  and  promised 
himself  much  pleasure  in  a  reunion.  Their 
voyage  had  been  a  pleasant  one,  and  they 
were  at  that  time  to  sail  direct  for  Boston. 
He  desired  that  Mr.  Barrett  should  be  in- 
formed that  he  had  taken  his  letter  for  a  sort 


230  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

of  text  book,  and  endeavored  to  shape  his  life 
by  the  excellent  advice  it  contained. 

The  newspapers  were  watched  carefully, 
and  one  morning  George  saw  with  delight, 
under  the  head  of  marine  news,  "  Arrived  this 
day,  ship  Lion,  Hong  Kong." 

She  was  consigned  to  the  same  parties  as 
before,  and  George  hurried  down  to  the  wharf, 
in  the  hope  that  she  -might  have  already  come 
up  ;  and  she  had.  He  saw  her  at  the  end 
of  the  dock,  her  name  flying  from  the  foretop ; 
but  both  it  and  the  ensign  at  the  mizzen  peak 
were  at  half  mast ! 

"  Whafr  can  it  mean  ?  Who  is  dead .? " 
Then  George  tried  to  think  it  was  some  pub- 
lic man  who  might  have  died,  and  whose  mem- 
ory they  were  honoring ;  but  no  other  vessel 
had  a  similar  badge  of  mourning.  Then  he 
knew  it  must  be  some  one  on  board  ;  of  course 
an  officer  or  passenger.  Could  it  be  Robert  .-• 
Was  it  his  father  ?  Perhaps  it  was  one  of  the 
mates  }  That  would  be  a  sad  blow  to  their 
friends,  but  George,  perhaps  selfishly,  but  still 
very  naturally,  thought  it  would  not  afflict  Aim 


THE   VOYAGER  RETURNED.  23 1 

SO  severely.  But  he  was  not  long  in  suspense, 
for  he  had  gained  the  side  of  the  ship,  and  was 
soon  on  board. 

He  met  Robert  coming  out  of  the  cabin, 
evidently  going  on  shore.  George  was  con- 
siderably relieved  to  know  it  was  not  this 
friend.  In  an  instant  they  were  in  each 
other's  arms.  Robert  broke  the  silence,  the 
tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks,  by  sobbing 
out,  "  O,  George,  my  father's  dead  !  my  father's 
dead  ! " 

They  went  into  the  cabin,  and  as  soon  as 
Robert  could  control  himself,  he  told  George 
that  three  weeks  before,  during  very  heavy 
weather,  his  father  was  washed  overboard,  and 
seen  no  more.  A  boat  was  lowered,  but  their 
efforts  were  fruitless.  O,  how  they  blessed 
God  that  this  sudden  call  had  not  found  him 
unprepared  ! 

Robert  then  told  George  that  from  the  day 
of  the  prayer  meeting  his  father  had  main- 
tained devotion  regularly,  and  was  in  many 
respects  a  changed  man.  But  after  they  had 
been  gt  sea  several  weeks  he  called  his  son 


232  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

one  day,  and  told  him  he  had  given  up  every- 
thing for  Christ ;  and  the  moment  he  came 
to  that  conclusion,  light  broke  in  upon  his 
soul. 

The  circumstances  which  had  deprived 
Robert  of  his  only  living  parent,  also  inter- 
fered with  his  continuing  in  the  seafaring 
life  his  friends  had  determined  for  him,  at  least 
for  the  present.  His  voyage  had  been  useful 
to  him,  and  had  his  father's  life  been  spared, 
he  would,  in  proper  time,  undoubtedly  have 
been  fully  prepared  to  take  command  of  a 
ship.  For  although  he  had  enjoyed  the  priv- 
ileges of  the  cabin,  and  was  not  entered  on 
the  ship's  articles  as  a  sailor,  he  had  oppor- 
tunities of  learning  much  theoretically,  and 
had  studied  navigation  with  his  father,  whose 
purpose  it  had  been  to  make  him  his  successor 
when  competent. 

Captain  Ashley  was  in  very  comfortable 
circumstances,  and  left  property  which  would 
be  his  son's  now,  he  being  sole  heir ;  and 
there  was  nothing  which  showed  Robert's 
changed   disposition   more  markedly  than   in 


THE  VOYAGER  RETURNED.       233 

the  application  he  made  to  Mr.  Barrett,  at 
an  early  day,  to  assist  in  the  settlement  of  his 
father's  affairs,  and  then  to  become  trustee  of 
his  estate  till  he  should  come  of  age.  Acting 
under  his  advice,  there  were  investments  made 
of  the  funds  received  from  the  sale  of  some 
of  the  property,  while  his  share  in  the  ship, 
being  considered  good  paying  stock,  was  al- 
lowed to  remain.  But  what  was  Robert  to 
do  for  employment  ? 

Mr.  Barrett,  in  investigating  the  affairs  of 
Captain  Ashley,  had  frequent  occasion  to  visit 
the  ship,  and  opportunities  were  afforded  him 
to  ascertain  to  his  satisfaction  from  conversa- 
tions with  the  mates  that  Robert's  conduct 
during  the  entire  voyage  had  been  exemplary, 
and  such  as  became  a  Christian  ;  that  as  often 
as  possible  he  would  converse  with  the  sailors, 
loan  them  good  books  from  his  library,  and 
supply  them  with  religious  tracts  and  papers  ; 
while  on  the  Sabbath  (which  his  lamented 
father  made  a  day  of  rest  as  much  as  possible, 
and  who  invariably,  when  the  weather  per- 
mitted, would  collect  such  of  the  ship's  com- 


234  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

pany  as  were  not  on  duty,  to  attend  divine 
worship  aft),  he  would  spend  much  time  in 
special  pleading  with  some  of  those  who 
evinced  interest  in  holy  things.  And  the  re- 
sult of  these  interviews  and  labors  was  ap- 
parent. 

The  mates  said  there  was  no  profanity  to 
be  heard,  and  though  neither  was  a  professor 
of  religion,  they  both  testified  to  Mr.  Barrett, 
that  during  all  their  seafaring  days  they 
never  met  a  more  obedient,  orderly,  quiet  body 
of  men  before,  and  they  were  not  composed 
of  any  better  material  either  ;  for  out  of  the 
half  dozen  who  professed  a  hope  in  Christ, 
three  were  brought  down  to  the  ship  before 
leaving  port  in  a  state  of  beastly  intoxication, 
unable  on  recovering  to  know  how  or  when 
they  came  on  board. 

There  is  no  position  on  board  a  ship  so 
unpleasant  for  the  holder,  or  more  despised 
by  the  sailors,  than  that  occupied  by  a  young 
man,  who,  because  he  is  related  to  the  captain 
or  owners  of  the  vessel,  while  learning,  or  pre- 
tending to  learn  the  art  of  seamanship,  lives 


THE   VOYAGER   RETURNED.  2^$ 

in  the  cabin,  and  messes  with  the  officers,  and 
does  not  participate  in  all  the  perils  and  hard- 
ships of  the  forecastle  hands.  Such  a  one 
is  said  to  be  preparing  to  "jump  into  the 
cabin  windows."  And  yet,  Robert  holding 
just  this  position,  by  his  gentle  deportment. 
Christian  example,  and  daily  association  with 
the  sailors  for  the  sole  purpose  of  doing  them 
good,  so  wrought  upon  their  hearts,  and  won 
their  affections,  that  they  learned  to  love  him, 
and  through  him  some  were  led  to  Ipve  his 
Saviour. 

But  again.  What  was  Robert  to  do  for 
employment  ? 

The  evidence  of  his  reformation  was  so 
positive,  that  so  far  as  punishment  was  con- 
cerned, it  was  not  deemed  necessary  to  banish 
him  from  home  any  more  ;  and  as  the  facilities 
for  promotion  he  would  have  enjoyed  had  his 
father  lived,  were  now  lost  to  him,  and  as  his 
natural  tastes  would  never  have  led  him  to 
follow  the  sea  for  any  love  of  the  life,  it  was 
considered  best,  under  the  circumstances,  to 
provide  for  him  a  situation  on  the  land.     And 


236  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

this  they  forthwith  proceeded  to  do,  and 
through  influence,  soon  accompHshed,  and 
he  was  located  in  the  counting-room  of  a 
ship  chandler,  named  Samuel  Martin,  a  de- 
voted Christian  man,  where  he  merited  the 
confidence  bestowed  on  him  ;  and  away  from 
his  store  he  was  as  unremitting  in  his  labors 
of  love  for  those  around  him,  as  he  had  ever 
been  zealous  in  the  service  of  Satan.  He 
had  one  peculiarity :  his  tastes  or  sense  of 
duty  led  him  to  feel  a  particular  solicitude 
for  the  sailor,  so  much  neglected,  and  his 
new  business  pleased  him  because  he  was 
now  necessarily  thrown  into  the  company 
of  sea-going  men.  On  Sundays,  morning 
and  evening,  he  might  be  seen  on  the 
wharves,  or  on  board  of  vessels  when  per- 
mission was  granted  him,  talking  or  pray- 
ing with  the  occupants  of  the  forecastle,  and 
inviting  them  to  attend  church  or  prayer 
meeting. 

In  reply  to  the  question,  sometimes  pro- 
pounded to  him,  "Why  do  you  not  join  the 
church .'' "  he  gave  occasionally  an  equivocal 


THE  VOVAGER  RETURNED.       23/ 

reply,  but  the  reason  was  soon  apparent.  The 
church  to  which  most  of  his  friends  belonged, 
and  to  which  for  their  sakes  his  incHnations 
might  have  led  him,  »was  at  a  great  distance 
from  the  business  part  of  the  city,  away  from 
the  wharves  where  he  loved  so  much  to  labor 
for  the  Master,  and  was  never  to  any  extent 
frequented  by  the  class  of  individuals  with 
whom  Robert  most  sympathized.  He  felt 
for  the  sailor ;  his  father  had  been  one ;  he 
had  been  thrown  into  their  society  more  or 
less  all  his  life,  and  his  first  and  only  voyage 
had  had  a  tendency  to  increase  his  love  for 
the  race,  if  it  had  not  fully  developed  his 
fondness  for  their  pursuits  ;  therefore,  in  the 
prosecution  of  his  missionary  work  among 
mariners,  when  his  invitations  were  accepted, 
he  introduced  his  company,  not  to  the  distant 
house  of  God  where  his  friends  worshipped, 
but  to  the  Bethel  church,  nearer  in  point 
of  distance,  and  more  congenial  from  its 
surroundings  to  their  feelings  ;  because  there 
they  would  be  more  likely  to  meet  more  of 
their  own  calling  in  life.     And  he  very  soon 


238  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

learned  to  love  this  church  too,  its  people,  its 
pastor ;  while  in  return,  his  generous,  whole- 
souled  Christian  charity  so  won  their  esteem 
that  he  was  counted  a  valuable  acquisition, 
and  before  long,  one  Sabbath  morning  saw 
all  his  friends,  old  and  young,  at  the  Mari- 
ner's church,  to  witness  the  solemn  and  beau- 
tiful spectacle  of  Robert  putting  on  Christ 
by  baptism. 

He  endeavored  to  seek  out  those  of  his 
early  associates  who  had  united  with  him  in 
serving  another  master  so  faithfully,  and  lead 
them  the  way  to  Christ.  He  remembered 
Mrs.  Rice's  boarding-house,  and  the  evil 
example  he  had  set  there ;  he  remembered 
being  the  first  one  to  lead  that  lady's  son, 
Joseph,  from  rectitude,  into  spending  his 
evenings  at  the  theatre,  introducing  him 
to  companions  whose  influence  was  so  bad 
that  he  was  disgraced,  and  dismissed  from  his 
employment ;  and  Robert's  fascinations  were 
no  less  irresistible  for  inducing  Joseph  to 
attend  church,  than  they  had  been  in  leading 
him  into  sin,  and  he  finally  had  the  blessed 


THE    VOYAGER    RETURNED.  239 

privilege  of  seeing  him  walking  in  the  way 
of  the  Lord  ;  while  the  return  of  that  happi- 
ness which  she  had  lost  in  seeing  her  son 
so  wicked,  led  his  mother  to  think  of  her  con- 
dition ;  and  the  unusual,  but  no  less  delight- 
ful spectacle  was  the  privilege  of  a  crowded 
assembly,  when  mother  and  son  were  ad- 
mitted to  the  church  of  God,  as  worthy 
members. 

Robert's  early  education  had  not  been  as 
good  as  most  boys  are  favored  with,  but  as 
he  grew  older  and  wiser  in  other  matters, 
he  felt  the  necessity  of  learning  more,-  so, 
with  that  indomitable  will  that  impelled  him 
to  overcome  other  obstacles,  he  found  time 
not  devoted  to  his  secular  pursuits  or  relig- 
ious duties,  to  study  and    improve  his  mind. 

He  frequently  took  part  in  their  meetings, 
and  his  voice,  whether  heard  in  prayer,  or 
in  the  fervent  appeals  to  his  unconverted 
friends,  for  which  he  had  a  wonderful  gift, 
were  listened  to  by  all  with  pleasure,  and 
many  with  profit,  while  some  thought  they 
saw  a  promise  of  special  usefulness  in  the 
future. 


240  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

His  talent  for  public  speaking  was  ap- 
parent to  all,  and  his  employer,  who  often 
attended  the  Bethel  church,  and  had  therefore 
frequently  heard  him  speak,  was  induced  one 
day  in  conversation  with  Mr.  Barrett  to  allude 
to  his  impression  that  Robert  ought  to  study 
in  some  institution  with  a  view  to  adopting 
the  Christian  ministry  as  a  profession. 

Mr.  Barrett's  reply  was  not  more  cautious 
than  was  his  usual  custom,  but  his  affirmative 
was  not  as  prompt  as  was  expected,  for  he 
had  never  heard  him  speak ;  and  having  had 
no  conversation  on  the  subject  with  Robert, 
as  in  fact  had  no  one  else,  he  preferred  to  wait 
until  an  opportunity  was  afforded  to  judge 
for  himself.  This  was  soon  to  be ;  for  not 
long  after  a  public  meeting  was  held,  at 
which  addresses  were  made  on  the  subject 
of  the  conversion  of  mariners,  gotten  up  by 
the  church  of  which  Robert  was  a  member, 
and  at  which  he  was  to  speak. 

Mr.  Barrett,  and  in  fact  all  of  Robert's 
friends  were  present,  and  if  he  had  enter- 
tained any  doubts  of  the  young  man's  ability 


THE   VOYAGER  RETURNED.  24 1 

before,  they  were  dispelled.  So  to  this 
the  matter  was  resolved :  Robert  is  un- 
doubtedly a  true  Christian  ;  he  has  an  un- 
mistakable talent  for  public  speaking,  and 
an  indisputable  affection  for,  and  delight  in, 
addressing  the  sailor.  He  needs  a  better 
education,  and  with  that,  he  will  be  the 
means,  under  God,  of  doing  great  good. 

This  matter  was  settled  in  the  minds  of 
all  Robert's  friends,  even  before  he  had  been 
consulted  ;  to  do  this  was  then  the  next  point, 
Mr.  Barrett  invited  Robert  one  night  to  meet 
a  few  friends  at  his  house,  among  them  his 
employer,  and  in  the  course  of  the  evening 
the  subject  was  broached.  Robert's  reply 
was  worthy  of  him :  — 

"  I  am  happy  only  when  I  can  be  doing 
something  for  my  Master.  I  owe  him  a  debt 
of  gratitude  I  can  only  begin  to  repay  by  the 
devotion  of  my  life  and  services  to  him.  I 
have  too  much  trust  in  you,  my  dear  friends, 
to  suppose  you  would  advise  me  to  do  any- 
thing that  would  check,  or  in  any  way  inter- 
fere, with  the  sole  purpose  of  my  hfe ;  so 
16 


242  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

that,  if  you  think  I  can  be  of  any  service  in 
my  feeble  way  to  assist  in  the  advancement 
of  Christ's  kingdom,  by  devoting  my  life  to 
the  work  of  preaching,  I  can  truly  say,  it 
is  the  work  in  which  I  should  most  delight." 

A  season  of  prayer  concluded  the  delibera- 
tions of  the  evening,  and  after  Robert  had 
left,  it  was  decided  for  him  to  attend  at  once 
to  the  work  of  preparation.  The  young 
man's  private  purse  was  sufficiently  able  to 
defray  his  expenses  in  the  prosecution  of  his 
studies,  and  he  soon  after  entered  a  seminary 
to  commence  his  work. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


BUSINESS   FIDELITY   REWARDED. 


far 


ENRY'S  father  had  succeeded 
better  in  his  business  as  an  in- 
surance agent  than  he  had  antici- 
pated, and  he  had  been  appointed  a  special 
agent  for  the  company  to  be  located  in  Bos- 
ton, and  to  this  place  he  removed  his  family. 
This,  of  course,  resulted  in  the  withdrawal  of 
Henry  from  his  pleasant  home  at  Mrs. 
Hutchins's.  But  they  were  still  to  be  neighbors, 
for  Mr.  Clement  rented  a  house  on  the  same 
street,  and  almost  directly  opposite. 

Fanny,  the  eldest  daughter,  was  engaged  in 
giving  music  lessons,  while  Louise  obtained 
a  position   as   teacher  in   one   of  the  public 

243 


244  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

schools.  They  were  both  well  educated,  their 
instruction  having  been  of  the  most  liberal 
character  during  the  days  of  their  father's 
prosperity.  Of  course  they  did  not  mingle  in 
the  gay  and  fashionable  society  which  had  been 
their  wont  in  their  more  affluent  circum- 
stances. They  would  not  have  been  welcomed 
in  such  circles  now  adversity  had  come,  even 
if  their  inclination  had  led  them  there  —  which 
fortunately  it  did  not ;  they  found  their  little 
world  now  within  themselves,  and  each  in- 
dividual ■  of  the  family  vied  with  the  other  in 
attempts  to  soften  the  blow  which  at  one 
time  threatened  to  dethrone  the  reason  of  the 
husband  and  father.  And  this  very  affliction 
served,  in  their  case,  as  it  has  done  in  multi- 
tudes of  others,  to  strengthen  the  affection 
of  the  members  of  the  family  towards  each 
other.  The  Bible  was  now  no  longer  a  sealed 
volume  ;  the  family  altar,  which  was  erected 
years  before,  but  which  the  weight  of  riches 
had  broken  down,  now  that  that  load  had 
been  removed,  was  rebuilt,  and  their  disposi- 


BUSINESS    FIDELITY    REWARDED.  24$ 

tions  led  them  to  the  house  of  God  more 
regularly  and  with  different  feeUngs  than 
when  display  and  fashion  had  been  the  ruling 
influences. 

As  soon  as  Charles  Butler  had  furnished, 
through  his  friends,  the  required  bonds,  and 
had  been  set  at  liberty,  he  made  prompt 
preparations  to  place  himself  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  officers  of  the  law  ;  and  it  was  long 
after  his  failure  to  respond  to  the  call  for  his 
appearance  at  court,  before  any,  beyond  his 
immediate  family  circle,  knew  of  his  where- 
abouts ;  and  when  the  case  was  called,  al- 
though Mr.  Carroll  and  the  other  bondsmen 
were  held  responsible  for  his  departure,  they 
denied  all  knowledge  of  him,  and  pretended 
that  they  had  acted  in  good  faith  in  the  whole 
affair. 

About  two  years  after  this,  and  when  al- 
most every  one  but  the  parties  most  inti- 
mately interested  in  the  transaction  had 
forgotten  all  about  it,  Mr.  Wilder  received  the 
following  letter :  — 


246  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

"  Montreal,  July  15,  18—. 

"Mr.  Frederic  Wilder. 

"  My  dear  Sir  :  Your  kindness  to  me 
through  the  many  years  I  was  in  your  employ 
has  never  been  forgotten,  although  I  abused 
your  confidence,  and  have  destroyed  my  rep- 
utation, at  least  in  your  city,  for  hfe.  Your 
treatment  towards  me  has  always  been  more 
like  that  of  a  parent  towards  his  child,  than 
that  of  an  employer  toward  his  help  ;  and 
now  I  have  reflected  on  my  course,  I  am 
deeply  sensible  of  the  treachery  of  which  I 
have  been  guilty,  and  humbly  ask  your  for- 
giveness. 

"  Soon  after  reaching  Canada  I  obtained  a 
situation  in  a  large  establishment,  and  am 
still  employed  there.  I  relinquished  my  habit 
of  gambling,  and  from  the  day  of  my  arrest 
to  the  present  moment  I  have  not  touched  a 
card,  for  amusement  even  ;  and  God  helping 
me,  I  never  will.  I  shall  never  forget  the  ex- 
cellent counsel  you  gave  me  at  the  jail,  which 
I  received  at  that  time  so  coldly,  so  insult- 
ingly ;  but  the  seed  sown  then  has  sprung  up, 


BUSINESS  FIDELITY   REWARDED.  24/ 

and  I  am  determined  that  the  future  of  my 
life  shall  prove  to  you  that  your  Christian 
advice  and  example  have  not  been  in  vain. 

"  No  one  here  suspects  me  of  crime,  and  it 
will  be  apparent  to  you  that  it  is  poHcy  to 
allow  all  to  remain  in  ignorance.     I  beg  you 
to  allow  my  secret  to  remain  such  in   your 
bosom.     My  pay,  at   first  small,  has,  in  con- 
sequence  of  my  attention   to   duty,  been  in- 
creased, so  that  I  have,  by  economy,  been  able 
to  save  five  hundred  dollars,  which  I  enclose 
you,  and  request  you  to  accept  as  the  first 
instalment  on  my  obligation  to  you.     I  shall 
continue  to  labor  hard  and  live  savingly  until 
I  have  paid  you  all,  principal  and  interest ;  and 
when  time  has  so  far  advanced  as  to  make  it 
safe,  I  shall  see  you,  and  on  my  knees  beg 
your  pardon  for  my  crime,  and  endeavor  to 
prove,  by  a  Ufe  of  propriety,  that  I  have  been 
benefited  through  your  instrumentality. 

"  I  also  owe  an  apology  to  George  Hutchins 
(in  whom  you  have  confidence,  and  he  de- 
serves it),  and  an  explanation  which  I  intrust 
to  you  to  make  to  him. 


248  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

"  I  noticed,  from  the  first  that  he  was  a 
good  boy,  and  that  I  could  not  carry  my 
nefarious  work  on  long  without  being  detect- 
ed, if  I  did  not  take  steps  to  prejudice  your 
mind  against  him,  and  thereby  insure  his  dis- 
charge ;  to  that  end,  I  treated  him  ill.  I  told 
you  everything  I  could  find  against  him,  and 
manufactured  much  more  that  had  no  exist- 
ence in  fact,  knowing  that  his  knowledge  of 
book-keeping  and  quick  perception  would 
sooner  or  later  result  in  my  ruin  if  he  was 
allowed  to  remain.  His  conduct  towards  me 
through  all  my  ill  treatment  to  him  has  af- 
flicted me  deeply  since.  I  have  had  time  to 
reflect,  and  I  wish  you  to  express  this  my 
sentiment  to  him,  and  ask  his  forgiveness ; 
and  let  me  ask  you  both  to  remain  silent,  so 
far  as  my  location  is,  at  least  for  the  present. 

"  My  health  is  not  good.  I  have  never  been 
well  since  my  fever  attack  ;  but  my  prayer  is, 
that  my  life  may  be  spared  until  I  have 
liquidated  my/  obligations  to  you.  May  I 
again  ask  that  you  will  not  inform  any  one 
of  this,  so  that  I  may  not  be  interrupted  in 


BUSINESS   FIDELITY   REWARDED.  249 

the  now  sole  purpose  of  my  life,  — to  place 
you  financially  in  the  position  'you  occupied 
before  I  was  led  astray. 

"  A  letter  will  reach  me,  if  directed  to  my 
full  name,  38  Rue  d'Eau,  Montreal. 

"  Yours  with  much  respect, 

"Charles  Butler." 

This  was  very  unexpected  news  to  Mr. 
Wilder,  and  the  recovery  of  a  portion  of  his 
lost  funds,  arid  the  prospect  of  still  further 
additions,  was  not  more  gratifying  than  to 
know  that  a  reformation  had  taken  place  in 
the  character  of  his  late  book-keeper.  He 
sat  down  on  the  day  of  the  receipt  of  the 
communication,  and  penned  the  following:  — 

"  Boston,  June  19,  18 — . 

"My  Dear  Charles:  'There  is  joy  in 
heaven  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth.'  I 
could  but  thank  God  that  you  are  not  lost ; 
that  you  still  have  a  heart  affected  by  the 
past,  and  a  disposition  to  amend  in  the  future. 
You  shall  always  have  my  prayers  that  the 


250  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

good  Spirit  may  continue  to  move,  until  the 
work  of  grace  is  complete. 

"  The  remittance  of  five  hundred  dollars 
came  duly  to  hand,  and  I  thank  you  for  re- 
membering me. 

"  I  shall  continue  to  keep  your  secret  as  you 
request,  and  until  you  say  that  it  will  be  con- 
genial to  your  feelings,  no  one  but  George  and 
I  shall  know  it. 

"  George  has  desired  me  to  say  that  you 
have  his  full,  free,  hearty  forgiveness  for  any- 
thing you  may  have  done  with  a  view  to  his 
injury,  and  you  have  our  prayers  for  your 
continued  prosperity  in  business,  and,  above 
all,  that  you  may  give  your  heart  to  God. 

"  I  pray  Heaven  that  your  life  may  be  spared 
many  years  to  serve  the  Lord,  and  do  much 
good. 

"  I  am,  yours  affectionately, 

"F.  Wilder." 

The  business  abilities  of  George  and  Henry 
had  been  tested  to  Mr.  Wilder's  entire  sat- 
isfaction.      Their    trade    for    the    four  years 


BUSINESS   FIDELITY   REWARDED.  2$  I 

now  elapsed  since  Mr.  Butler's  defalcation 
had  been  steadily  increasing,  and  quite  profit- 
able ;  and  Mr.  Wilder,  although  by  no  means 
an  old  man,  had  been  many  years  in  trade, 
and  had  amassed  a  considerable  fortune.  His 
losses  had  been  comparatively  few,  and  he  felt 
that  he  could  now  with  propriety  retire  from 
active  life,  and  spend  the  balance  of  his  days 
in  the  enjoyment  of  what  he  had  with  honor 
accumulated. 

Mr.  Barrett,  when  he  made  the  statement 
to  Mrs.  Hutchins,  that  he  should  consider  it 
a  privilege  to  watch  over  the  interests  of  her 
son,  and  at  some  time  perhaps  see  an  oppor- 
tunity to  render  him  additional  service,  had  it 
in   his   mind   to  assist  George  into  business 
when   he   should   have  reached   the    age    of 
twenty-one,    having    no    knowledge    of    Mr. 
Wilder's   designs   in   the   premises.     But  the 
latter  gentleman  had  a  plan  of  his  own,  which 
he   had   never  confided  to  Mr.  Barrett,  until 
one  day,  in  a  conversation,  George's  approach- 
ing majority  formed  the  principal  topic.     Said 
Mr.  Barrett, — 


252  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

"George  will  ^oon  be  old  enough  to  start 
in  life  for  himself  I  have  for  a  long  time 
been  locking  forward  anxiously  to  the  oppor- 
tunity I  shall  soon  have  of  indicating  my  con- 
fidence in  and  regard  for  the  young  man 
whom  we  all  have  so  much  reason  to  regard 
with  gratitude,  and  am  desirous  to  consult 
with  you  as  to  the  best  course  to  pursue  in 
the  matter." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Wilder,  "  I  am  quite  ready 
to  talk  on  that  subject,  for  I  was  going  to 
introduce  it  myself  I  have  done,  thank  God, 
business  enough  to  entitle  me  to  rest  now, 
and  though  not  what  you  would  call  rich,"  he 
said  with  a  smile,  "  yet  I  can  with  economy 
exist  without  more  labor.  I  am  going  to  re- 
tire from  business  at  the  close  of  the  year." 

"  If  that  is  the  case,"  said  Mr.  Barrett,  "  I 
propose  to  furnish  George  with  capital  to  carry 
on  the  same  business,  if  there  is  not  any  ob- 
jection." 

"  And  deprive  me  of  the  opportunity  I  have 
been  anticipating  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Wilder. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  Mr.  Barrett.     "  I  will 


BUSINESS    FIDELITY    REWARDED.  253 

assist,  and  George  and  Henry,  '  the  insep- 
arable,' shall  continue  tog<ither.  They  are  of 
about  the  same  age,  I  believe." 

"  Yes  ;  Henry  is  about  two  months  the 
junior,  I  think,  but  both  will  be  twenty-one 
before  the  first  of  January." 

Well,  then,  if  that  is  the  case,  and  you  pro- 
pose to  retire  with  the  close  of  the  year,  let 
the  new  copartnership  commence  with  January 
first,"  said  Mr.  Barrett. 

,  "  Agreed,"  said  Mr.  Wilder  ;  "  now  we  will 
see  the  young  men." 

Astonishment  and  gratitude  were  the  emo- 
tions of  both  George  and  Henry  at  this  last 
act  of  generosity  on  the  part  of  their  friends  ; 
but  Henry  was  probably  more  amazed  than 
his  companion,  for  George  had  received  a  hint 
more  than  once  from  a  certain  member  of 
Mr,  Barrett's  family,  that  something  was  to  be 
done  for  his  benefit,  but  Henry  felt  that  he 
had  no  claim  to  such  a  gratuity,  and  for  a 
while  it  astounded  him. 

The  newspapers  of  the  first  day  of  January, 
published  the  announcement  of  the  dissolution 


254  "^"^   BOSTON   BOY. 

of  the  partnership  of  Wilder  and  Clark,  and 
the  formation  of  a  new  one  under  the  style  of 
Hutchins,  Clement  &  Co.,  to  continue  the 
business  of  the  late  firm  ;  and  in  a  card  ac- 
companying the  advertisement,  Mr.  Wilder 
bespoke  a  liberal  continuance  of  patronage. 

In  his  frequent  visits  to  the  house  of  Mr. 
Barrett  (for  he  had  been  a  constant  caller 
since  his  introduction  to  the  family),  George 
Hutchins  and  Mary  Barrett  had  been  thrown 
a  great  deal  into  each  other's  society,  and  it 
is  not  surprising  that  the  brotherly  and  sis- 
terly affection  which  they  very  early  enter- 
tained towards  each  other  should  ripen  into 
another  and  stronger  relation.  "  Everybody  " 
had  observed  it,  in  fact  "  everybody "  had 
prophesied  it,  perhaps  before  the  parties  them- 
selves had  thoroughly  realized  it  ;  and  when, 
a  short  time  after,  the  new  and  handsome  sign 
of  Hutchins,  Clement  &  Co.  had  been  elevated 
to  the  position  where  that  of  Wilder  &  Clark 
had  so  long  hung,  George  asked  of  Mr.  Bar- 
rett the  hand  of  Mary.  His  hearty  affirmation 
was  given,  with  an  earnestness  and  emphasis 


BUSINESS   FIDELITY   REWARDED.  255 

which  indicated  how  agreeable  the  arrange- 
ment was  to  the  parent.  In  order  that  these 
"  everybodies,"  who  "  had  known  it  all  along," 
might  enjoy  the  engagement  with  the  parents 
and  friends  of  the  parties  most  intimately  in- 
terested, Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barrett  gave  a  large 
party  in  honor  of  the  event.  As  our  ac- 
qaintance  with  the  parties  has  been  long  and 
intimate  enough  to  entitle  us  to  an  invitation, 
we  will  accept  it ;  and  eight  o'clock  finds  us 
at  the  door  of  their  hospitable  mansion. 

Most  of  the  guests  are  assembled  ;  and  al- 
though there  are  a  great  many  present  who 
are  strangers  to  us,  we  meet  several  of  our 
old  friends. 

Of  course  Mother  Hutchins  is  here,  with 
the  same  gentle  smile  on  her  countenance, 
extending  her  hand  in  affectionate  grasp  to 
her  many  friends,  all  of  whom  love  her,  for 
"  none  knew  her  but  to  love  her ;  none  named 
her  but  to  praise." 

Her  hair  has  grown  white ;  but  those  gray 
hairs  are  an  honor,  and  we  imagine  we  detect 
some  of  that  pride  in  her  that  she  so  naturally 


256  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

felt  some  years  since,  on  receiving  George's 
picture,  and  the  letter  from  Mr.  Barrett  ac- 
knowledging her  son's  services.  We  did  not 
blame  her  then,  or  wonder  at  it ;  we  do  not 
now,  for  there  is  no  sin  in  such  pride.  He 
had  proved  himself  worthy  of  all  the  confi- 
dence reposed  in  him,  and  when  the  young 
merchant,  with  his  betrothed  on  his  arm, 
passed  through  the  long  spacious  parlors  to 
receive  that  mother's  blessing,  it  was  no 
wonder  that  as  she  saw  them,  the  boy  of  her 
heart,  and  the  young  and  beautiful  creature  he 
had  chosen  of  all  others  to  be  his  partner  for 
life,  his  companion  in  joys  and  sorrows  (and 
beautiful  she  was,  not  only  in  form  and  feature, 
but  resplendent  with  grace  of  heart,  tran- 
scending all  personal  charms),  it  is  no  wonder 
that  her  maternal  eye  should  brighten,  and 
just  the  least  color  in  the  world  overspread 
her  face,  as  she  stood  with  extended  arms  to 
receive  them,  looking  every  inch  a  queen. 

Mr.   and   Mrs.   Barrett   and    Mr.   and    Mrs. 

Wilder  were  very  happy.     They  had  long  an- 

»     ticipated  this  result,  and  had  looked  forward 


BUSINESS    FIDELITY    REWARDED.  2$y 

to  it  with  joyful  expectation  ;  and  if  they,  or 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wood,  George's  uncle  and  aunt, 
who  are  present,  do  for  a  moment  think  of  the 
trying  ordeal  of  suspicion  through  which  the 
young  man  once  passed,  the  thought  is  in- 
stantly dispelled  by  the  consciousness  that  but 
for  the  sorrowful  circumstances  of  that  occa- 
sioji  his  many  excellent  qualities  might  have 
never  been  appreciated. 

Mrs.  Clement,  Henry  and  Louise,  we  see 
present,  but  Mr.  Clement  is  detained  at  home 
by  illness.  He  has  never  recovered  from  the 
shock  his  misfortune  caused,  and  rarely  goes 
out  in  the  evening.  He  is  in  failing  health, 
although  his  family  and  immediate  friends  do 
not  observe  it.  Fanny  did  not  enter  with  her 
mother ;  but  before  we  have  time  to  inquire 
about  her,  we  see  her  coming  in,  accompanied 
by  a  tall,  handsome,  youngs  man,  whose  bearded 
face  has  changed  so  much  since  the  arrival 
of  the  ship  Lion,  some  years  ago,  that  until 
his  name  is  announced,  we  do  not  recognize 
Robert  Ashley.  He  is  in  his  last  year  of 
College,  and  his  mind  has  improved  quite  as 
17 


258  THE  BOSTON   BOY. 

much  as  his  body.  No  one  would  imagine 
that  the  dignified,  clerical  looking  gentleman 
who  is  now  engaged  so  earnestly  in  conver- 
sation with  Mr.  Barrett,  is  the  same  one  who, 
a  few  short  years  ago,  stood  at  the  bar  of  a 
criminal  court  room,  self-convicted  of  crime, 
while  interested  friends  sought  earnestly  for  a 
mitigation  of  the  punishment  his  guilt  de- 
served. And  what  a  blessed  thought  it  is 
that  those  very  trials  through  which  he  passed, 
and  the  instrumentality  of  these  very  friends, 
were  the  means  which  the  Almighty  ordained 
as  the  process  to  prepare  his  youthful  servant 
for  the  work  he  was  now  fitting  himself,  labor 
for  souls. 

We  miss  one  face  that  we  supposed  we 
should  certainly  see  here,  for  he  loved  the 
young  man  whose  happy  connection  all  were 
present  to  congratulate  him  upon,  and  his  af- 
fection was  reciprocated  ;  but  Theodore 
Thomas,  the  faithful  Sabbath  school  teacher, 
is  now  receiving  his  reward  in  heaven. 

The  evening  was  pleasantly  spent  in  con- 
versation and  music  ;  and   in   the   latter   ac- 


BUSINESS    FIDELITY    REWARDED,  259 

complishment,  Miss  Fanny  Clement  had  an 
opportunity  to  display,  to  excellent  advantage, 
her  abilities  as  a  pianist,  which  were  very 
creditable  to  her,  and  which,  in  her  father's 
distress,  were  made  of  such  valuable  pecuniary 
assistance  to  the  family. 

At  a  late  hour  the    brilliant  assembly  dis- 
persed. 


CHAPTER     XVIII. 


NEW    RELATIONS. 


R,  CLEMENT  continued  to  grow 
gradually  worse,  but  his  decline 
was  so  gradual  that  it  created  no 
alarm,  and  was  to  the  immediate  members  of 
the  family  almost  imperceptible  ;  and  he  was 
himself  so  unconscious  of  danger  as  to  oppose 
the  calling  of  a  physician,  which  the  family 
had  been  anxious  to  do. 

But  at  last,  one  Saturday  night,  about  six 
months  after  the  party,  as  Robert  had  called 
in,  intending  to  pass  the  Sabbath  with  them, 
as  he  now  frequently  did,  he  found  the  sick  man 
s6  much  changed  that  it  alarmed  him,  and  he 
strongly  urged  that  a  doctor  should  be  sent 
for,  immediately ;  and   although   Mr.  Clement 

260 


NEW    RELATIONS.  26 1 

objected,  the  family  and  Robert  insisted,  and 
finally  prevailed.     The  first  question  was,  — 

"  Why  was  I  not  sent  for  before  ?  " 

This  question,  more  than  any  other  which 
can  be  propounded  to  a  family  where  there  is 
a  case  of  severe  illness,  carries  terrible  signifi- 
cance with  it. 

He  pronounced  Mr.  Clement  in  a  very  criti- 
cal condition.  He  should  have  been  treated 
medically  days,  perhaps  weeks,  before,  but 
everything  that  science  could  suggest  should 
be  done.  But,  alas  !  his  constitution,  never 
strong,  was  unable  to  wrestle  successfully  with 
the  terrible  hold  the  insidious  disease  had 
taken,  and  he  sank  rapidly  away,  until  the 
next  Tuesday,  when  his  spirit  took  its  flight. 
He  had  gone  to  enjoy  that  rest  he  had  so 
vainly  sought  below. 

What  a  terrible  blow  to  the  family.  There 
had  never  been  a  more  affectionate  circle.  In 
his  prosperity  he  had  been  an  indulgent  parent, 
a  devoted  husband.  No  want  had  ever  been 
expressed,  or  desire  he  could  anticipate,  but  had 
been  gratified  ;  and  when,  by  one  fell  swoop, 


262  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

his  riches  took  to  themselves  wings  and  flew 
away,  the  affection  of  wife  and  children  found 
an  opportunity,  never  before  offered,  to  labor 
and  economize  in  ways  he  little  dreamed  o.f, 
that  the  dear  husband  and  father  might  not  be 
deprived  of  any  comfort  or  luxury  which  he 
had  heretofore  enjoyed. 

In  early  life  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clement  had 
given  their  hearts  to  God,  and  their  family, 
particularly  during  childhood,  had  been  edu- 
cated in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
Lord.  But  as  their  days  of  prosperity  came, 
and  their  associations  in  hfe  became  of  a  dif- 
ferent character,  their  religious  obligations 
were,  one  after  another,  neglected,  and  gayety 
and  frivolity  usurped  the  place  of  Christian 
duty  ;  and  when  the  financial  crisis  came,  they 
were  found  without  the  arm  of  the  Lord  to 
support  them,  it  had  been  so  long  since  His 
aid  had  been  implored.  But  in  their  case,  as 
in  myriads  of  others,  this  was  probably  God's 
method  of  bringing  his  children  to  himself 
and  their  duty  ;  and  taking  the  proper  view  of 
the  calamity,  they  very  soon   became   rccon- 


NEW    RELATIONS.  263 

ciled  to  their  lot,  seeing  God's  hand  in  it,  and 
bent  their  energies,  with  redoubled  vigor,  to 
their  Master's  work. 
^Mr.  Clement  was  often  heard  to  say  that  he 
had  enjoyed  more  of  Christ  and  religion  since 
his  property  had  been  removed  than  ever  be- 
fore ;  and  during  his  long  sickness  he  had  time 
for  reflection  and  prayer,  that  fitted  him  for  the 
great  change  which  awaited  him.  A  more 
peaceful  death-bed  scene  was  never  witnessed. 
On  Monday  night  the  doctor  had  told  the 
friends  that  Mr.  Clement  could  not  probably 
live  through  another  day,  and  he  was  so  in- 
formed. He  was  not  surprised,  however,  and 
expressed  a  willingness  to  go,  and  his  only  re- 
gret seemed  to  be  at  leaving  his  dear  family. 

Robert  had  remained  with  the  family  during 
the  day,  as  Mr.  Clement  was  apparently  so 
near  his  end,  and  on  Tuesday  evening  was  in 
another  part  of  the  house,  when  he  was  sum- 
moned to  the  bedside  of  the  sick  man,  where 
he  found  all  the  members  of  the  family  assem- 
bled. Mr.  Clement  had  been  lying  in  a  stupor, 
but  had  suddenly  revived,  and  called  for  him. 


264  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

As  he  entered,  the  sick  man  beckoned  to  him, 
and  extending  his  thin,  wasted  hand,  placed  it 
in  Robert's,  saying, — 

"  Robert,  I  am  about  to  leave  this  world  of 
sin,  and  at  dying  I  have  no  fears,  and  but  one 
regret,  that  is,  to  leave  my  dear  family,  I  had 
hoped  to  live  to  see  you  the  preacher  of  good 
tidings  to  a  world  dead  in  sin  ;  but  it  has  been 
otherwise  ordered,  and  I  feel  that  with  one  re- 
quest gratified,  I  can  say,  contentedly,  '  Come, 
Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly.'  I  have  noticed  the 
affection  which  has  so  long  existed  between 
Fanny  and  yourself  with  a  great  deal  of  inter- 
est and  gratification,  and  hoped  to  live  to  see 
you  united.  I  should  then  feel  that  my  dear 
wife  had  another  arm  on  which  to  lean,  my 
children  another  brother,  and  Fanny  a  pro- 
tector through  life.  This  sight  is  denied  me  ; 
but  it  will  soften  my  dying  pillow,  if  I  know 
that  at  an  early  day  such  will  be  the  case.  I 
know  you  are  both  agreed  in  the  matter,  and 
that  it  will  only  be  a  question  of  time  ;  but,  in 
this  solemn  hour,  as  my  footsteps  are  just 
taking  hold  on  death,  join  your  hands,  and  let 
mc  give  you  a  father's  blessing." 


NEW   RELATIONS.  26$ 

The  two  did  as  requested,  and  amid  the 
sobs  of  all  present,  the  father,  with  a  remarka- 
bly strong  effort,  offered  a  brief  prayer  of 
benediction,  consecrating  them  to  a  heavenly 
Father's  protection,  asked  God's  kind  care 
and  shelter  towards  the  rest  of  his  mourning 
family,  sank  back  on  his  pillow,  and  breathed 
no  more. 

The  funeral  services  were  held  at  the  house, 
after  which  all  that  was  mortal  of  the  good 
man  was  conveyed  to  his  former  country  home, 
and  deposited  in  the  old  cemetery,  by  the  side 
of  a  little  one  who  had  died  some  years  be- 
fore. 

That  country  town  had  attractions  in  the 
estimation  of  that  sorrowing  family  before ; 
but  now  is  made  more  sacred  by  this  last  sad 
visit. 

Robert  returned  with  the  mourners  to  the 
city,  whence  he  was  obliged  to  hurry  back  to 
his  studies,  leaving  them  in  the  care  of  that 
God,  who  "  givcth,  and  who  taketh  away,"  but 
whether  in  blessings  or  afflictions,  "  doeth  all 
things  well,"  blessed  be  Mis  name. 


266  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

The  Commencement  day  of  the  institu- 
tion had  arrived,  and  how  many  associations 
clustered  around  the  hearts  of  all  on  that  day ! 
To  the  graduating  class  it  was  the  day  of 
honor ;  the  day  from  which  they  were  to  date 
the  victories  which  they  all  expected  to  achieve 
in  the  future.  The  Junior  was  to  step  into 
the  place  just  vacated,  while  the  Sophomores 
and  the  Freshmen  of  last  year  were  to  ad- 
vance, to  make  room  for  the  bashful  new 
comers,  —  the  laughing  stock  to  be,  of  those 
who,  a  year  ago,  were  in  the  same  position 
themselves.  Probably  few  political  campaigns 
or  forensic  efforts  of  the  future  will  produce 
in  sober  manhood  as  much  excitement  as  the 
honors  of  college  to  glowing  youth. 

Some  are  to  commence  the  practice  of  law ; 
and  there  are  vacancies  in  well  established 
offices  for  them  to  step  immediately  into. 
Some  will  be  obliged  to  labor  earnestly  for 
years,  perhaps,  before  the  bawble,  reputation, 
which  now  seems  so  near  their  grasp  will  be 
theirs.  Others  will  spend  their  lives  in  efforts 
for  the  sick  in  body,  while  a  few  will  care  for 
the  souls  of  their  fcUow-men. 


NEW    RELATIONS.  26/ 

The  exercises  of  such  a  day  are  always 
long,  and  frequently  somewhat  tedious  ;  and 
this  was  no  exception.  But  when  the  valedic- 
torian was  announced,  who,  on  this  occasion, 
was  our  young  friend  Robert  Ashley,  every 
voice  was  hushed,  and  every  eye  directed  to 
the  speaker. 

He  ascended  the  platform  with  graceful  dig- 
nity, made  his  bow  without  a  ^particle  of  ser- 
vility, yet  with  so  much  self-possession  and 
nobility  in  his  demeanor  that  it  was  almost 
unconsciously  returned,  with  cordial  politeness, 
by  every  wise  and  reverend  head  upon  the 
platform  ;  and  when  his  deep-toned  and  melo- 
dious voice  fell  upon  the  ear,  not  a  word  was 
lost  on  the  eager  throng. 

His  topic  was  "  Fidelity."  Fidelity  to  par- 
ents, to  benefactors,  to  our  country  and  its 
institutions  ;  chivalric  fidelity  to  the  ladies ; 
and  at  last,  to  the  audience  generally,  fidelity 
to  friends.  How  would  the  heart  of  his 
sainted  mother  have  rejoiced  to  see  this  day! 
What  a  beautiful  spectacle  for  his  father,  who, 
now  in  heaven,  had  while  on  earth  the  blessed 


268  THE    BOSTON    BOY. 

privilege  which  was  denied  the  mother,  to  see 
his  son  a  Christian  ;  and  what  a  glorious 
meeting  that  will  be,  when  the  sea  shall  give 
up  its  dead,  and  the  grave  shall  be  opened, 
around  the  great  white  throne  to  sing  praises 
to  the  Lamb  forever  and  ever,  an  unbroken 
family,  —  father,  mother,  son  ! 

Who  could  help  sympathizing  with  the 
widowed  mother,  who  would-  soon  hail  the 
young  speaker  as  son,  as  she  listened  with 
overflowing  eyes  to  his  tender  expressions  of 
fidelity  to  the  memory  of  lost  loved  ones  ;  and 
Mr.  Barrett,  Mr.  Wilder,  George,  and  others 
of  his  warm  friends,  when  friendship  was  so 
much  needed,  and  but  for  which  he  would 
probably  have  never  been  in  this  position,  — 
what  wonder  was  it  if  they  were  forced  to 
wipe  away  the  tears  which  came  thick  and 
fast  as  he  referred  to  fidelity  to  benefactors ! 

President  and  professors  prophesied  all  that 
was  good  and  great  from  such  a  young  man  ; 
and  more  than  once,  one  fond  heart  beat  audi- 
bly, as  the  eye  of  the  eloquent  speaker  met 
hers. 


NEW    RELATIONS.  269 

The  whole  class,  too,  with  whom  he  had 
been  a  favorite,  but  who  had  ridiculed  the  idea 
of  weeping  at  a  valedictory,  could  not  resist 
his  pathetic  eloquence  ;  and  when,  in  conclu- 
sion, he  ended  with  a  brief  peroration  on 
fidelity  to  God,  there  was  silence  for  a  few 
moments,  and  then  followed  deafening  ap- 
plause. 

The  settlement  of  their  first  year's  business 
was  very  satisfactory  to  the  new  firm  of 
Hutchins,  Clement  &  Co.,  as  well  as  to  their 
friends,  Mr.  Barrett  and  Mr.  Wilder. 

George  is  now  twenty-three  years  of  age, 
and  extensive  preparations  have  been  made 
for  his  marriage  with  Mary  Barrett.  Again  the 
extensive  rooms  are  brilliantly  lighted,  and  filled 
with  a  large  number  of  their  numerous  friends. 
Many  were  the  congratulations  bestowed  on 
the  young  and  happy  couple;  and  although 
many  meaningless  compliments  are  always  paid 
on  such  occasions,  those  who  knew  them  both 
best,  heartily  and  confidently  wished  them 
happiness  and  prosperity ;  and  if  happiness 
and  prosperity  are  the  natural  results  of  lives 


2/0  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

of  Strict  integrity,  governed  by  moral  prin- 
ciple, and  in  the  fear  of  God,  theirs  will  be  a 
felicitous  lot. 

George  had  frequently  expressed  a  wish  to 
reside  out  of  town  after  his  marriage,  but  had 
concluded  not  to  think  of  it  at  present,  as  he 
felt  that  he  could  hardly  afford  to  purchase 
just  such  a  place  as  he  would  like.  He  had 
looked  at  a  pretty  cottage  in  one  of  the  pleas- 
antest  towns  in  the  vicinity  of  Boston,  which 
was  for  sale,  and  had  told  Mary  of  it,  but  she 
had  wisely  agreed  with  him  that  they  had  bet- 
ter wait  a  little  while,  so  the  whole  matter  had 
been  dismissed,  they  both  being  perfectly  satis- 
fied that  the  plan  was  not  immediately  feasible. 
But  somehow  it  reached  Mr.  Barrett's  ears  that 
the  desire  for  a  country  residence  was  mutual, 
and  on  the  wedding  night  a  deed  of  the  prop- 
erty was  presented  to  the  surprised  couple 
by  Mr.  Barrett,  and  they  were  in  addition  in- 
formed that  their  house  would  be  furnished 
and  ready  for  occupancy  on  their  return  from 
the  bridal  tour. 

Many  were  the  rich  and  valuable  presents 


NEW   RELATIONS.  2/1 

they  received  on  the  occasion,  but  none  were 
prized  more  highly  than  a  beautiful  copy  of  a 
Family  Bible,  the  present  of  Mrs.  Hutchins, 
which  bore  on  its  cover  the  inscription, 
"  George  and   Mary ;    a   Mother's   Gift," 

At  the  expected  time  the  newly-wedded 
pair  returned  from  their  journey,  and  arrived 
late  one  evening  at  the  beautiful  house  in  the 
suburbs,  which  was  all  their  own. 

It  had  been  handsomely  furnished  through- 
out by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barrett,  with  an  eye  to 
the  comfort  of  the  occupants,  and,  as  they  en- 
tered the  house,  they  found  everything  ar- 
ranged, and,  in  fact,  housekeeping  already 
commenced,  for  Mrs.  Hutchins  had  been  there 
before  them,  and  would  remain  with  them  in 
the  future.  Neither  George  or  Mary  would 
have  considered  the  circle  complete  without 
her.  Together  they  made  a  tour  of  examina- 
tion. Every  room  presented  some  new  and 
valuable  memento  of  thoughtfulness,  and  they 
were  delighted  with  all  they  saw ;  and  that 
night,  as  they  all  knelt  down  to  celebrate  the 
erection  of  a  family  altar,  no  happier  house- 
hold could  be  found  anywhere. 


2/2  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

Robert,  during  the  year  of  theological  study 
he  had  just  completed,  had  frequent  opportu- 
nities to  preach  for  several  destitute  churches, 
some  having  no  ministers,  some  whose  pastors 
were  sick,  and  others  absent  on  vacations,  or 
from  other  causes  ;  but  now  he  had  concluded 
his  full  course,  he  began  to  look  about  for  a 
permanent  abiding  place. 

His  marriage,  which  had  been  delayed  until 
he  should  have  completed  his  collegiate  course, 
now  took  place.  The  couple  were  admirably 
fitted  for  each  other.  Fanny  was.  a  kind- 
hearted  girl ;  one  who  loved  to  do  good,  and 
was  never  happier  than  when  she  was  engaged 
in  some  plan  for  the  relief  of  suffering,  or  in 
rendering  assistance  to  the  sick  and  helpless. 
All  said  of  her,  "  She  will  make  an  excellent 
minister's  wife  ; "  and  Mrs.  Hutchins,  who  had 
found  in  the  busy  city  a  larger  field  for  dis- 
pensing those  charities  for  which  she  had  been 
so  long  and  so  favorably  known,  always  relied 
on  Fanny  for  companionship  and  sympathy  in 
all  her  works  of  benevolence. 

Soon  after  his  marriage,  Robert  accompa- 


NEW   RELATIONS.  2/3 

nied  his  wife  and  Mrs.  Clement  and  Louise  on 
a  visit  to  their  former  countr)'-  home,  —  a  visit 
the  Clements  had  been  in  the  habit  of  making 
annually. 

The  old  pastor  of  the  church  was  at  this 
time  confined  to  his  room  by  sickness,  and  on 
him  Robert  called,  in  company  with  Fanny,  by 
whom  he  was  introduced  ;  and  before  taking 
their  departure,  the  good  old  minister  invited 
him  to  occupy  his  pulpit  on  the  next  Sabbath. 

It  was  as  much  of  a  novelty  to  Mrs.  Clem- 
ent and  her  family  to  hear  Robert,  as  to  the 
good  people  of  the  town,  for,  although  he  had 
often  participated  in  the  devotional  exercises 
of  their  conference  meetings,  they  had  never 
listened  to  a  regular  sermon  from  his  lips. 
His  sermons  were  deeply  interesting,  and  so 
satisfactory  were  his  efforts,  that  both  pastor 
and  people  united  in  the  request  that  he  would 
remain  there  and  occupy  the  pulpit  during  the 
illness  of  the  minister ;  but,  alas !  the  good 
old  man  was  never  again  permitted  to  lift  up 
his  voice  to  those  to  whom  he  had  so  long 
ministered.  He  had  labored  long,  and  God 
i8 


2/4  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

had  graciously  blessed  him,  but  he  was  now 
called  to  his  reward. 

Robert  continued  to  labor  there,  and  in 
course  of  time  he  was  called  to  the  permanent 
charge  of  the  church  and  society ;  a  call  which 
both  a  sense  of  duty  and  inclination  prompted 
him  to  reply  to  favorably,  for  he  had  learned  to 
love  them,  and  he  was  ordained  to  the  holy 
work  of  the  ministry,  and  installed  as  pastor 
of  the  church. 

The  singular  circumstances  which  led  to  his 
connection  with  them  as  pastor,  or,  more  cor- 
rectly speaking,  the  providence  of  God  which 
ordered  it,  was  somewhat  of  a  disappointment 
to  the  Bethel  Church,  and  particularly  to 
the  good  old  ship-chandler,  in  whose  employ 
Robert  had  been,  and  who  had  imagined  and 
hoped,  as  indeed  had  all  the  young  man's 
friends,  that  as  soon  as  his  education  had  been 
finished,  he  would  devote  his  talents  exclu- 
sively to  the  welfare  of  the  sailor,  a  work  for 
which,  at  the  time  he  first  thought  of  studying 
for  the  ministry  he  appeared  most  peculiarly 
fitted,  and  which  he  himself  had  always  ira- 


NEW   RELATIONS.  2/5 

agined  would  be  his  appropriate  work.  But 
God  seemed  to  have  ordered  it  otherwise, 
and  this  way  of  duty  being  open  to  him,  he 
felt  that  he  had  no  right  to  neglect  it.  His 
ordination  was  attended  by  all  his  old 
friends,  who  had  now  good  reason  indeed  to 
"  praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for  his 
wonderful  works  to  the  children  of  men." 

The  ceremony  of  installation  over,  Robert 
began  to  make  preparations  for  a  residence, 
and,  as  good  fortune  would  have  it,  the  old 
Clement  homestead  was  for  sale,  and  about  to 
be  vacated,  and  he  being  able  to  secure  it, 
the  whole  family  were  soon  settled  in  their  old 
home  they  loved  so  well,  —  the  scene  of  so 
much  happiness. 

Robert's  investments,  made  by  advice  of 
Mr.  Barrett,  had  all  proved  profitable,  and  he 
still  permitted  all  of  his  little  fortune  not  re- 
quired to  settle  for  his  new  purchase,  to  remain 
where  it  had  been  placed  under  that  gentle- 
man's direction. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


REPENTANCE  AND  DEATH  OF  AN  ENEMY. 


T  was  now  six  years  since  Charles 
Butler    had    voluntarily    absented 
himself  from  home  and  friends  in 
consequence  of  his  crime. 

Mr.  Wilder  had  been  in  receipt  of  several 
letters  from  him  enclosing  remittances,  and 
all  breathing  the  same  spirit  of  penitence,  and 
desire  to  live  down  his  terrible  error.  His 
communications,  however,  more  frequently  and 
more  despondingly  alluded  to  his  impaired 
health.  About  six  months  since,  Mr.  Wilder 
received  a  letter  from  him,  dated  as  before, 
from  Montreal,  in  which  he  declared  his  in- 
tention to  accept  a  position  offered  him  to  go 
to  San  Francisco,  and  take  charge  of  a  set  of 

2/6 


REPENTANCE  AND  DEATH  OF  AN  ENEMY.  2/7 

books  in  a  large  mercantile  house  in  that  city. 
He  was  to  start  immediately.     Another  letter 
received  later,  dated  .from  the  latter  city,  in- 
formed Mr.  Wilder  of  his  safe  arrival,  and  his 
health  much  improved  by  the  sea  voyage,  and 
he  indulged  the  hope  that  the  climate  of  the 
Pacific  coast  would  be  more  favorable  to  his 
condition.     His  business  connection  promised 
to  be  a  pleasant  and  a  profitable  one  ;  and  if  his 
strength  would  only  be  equal  to  his  ambition, 
he  would  soon  be  able,  on  his  salary,  to  can- 
cel   all   his   obligations   to   Mr.   Wilder.     He 
seemed  to  be  aware  of  the  additional  tempta- 
tions to  which  he  would  be  subjected  in  that 
wicked  city,  but  as  he  adhered  firmly  to  the 
good  resolutions  he  had  formed  in  Montreal, 
he  knew  all  would  be  well.     He  enjoined  the 
same  secrecy  as  to  his  locality  for  the  future, 
that  had  been  granted  him  in  the  past,  and 
Mr.  Wilder's  heart  was  gratified  to  learn  that 
he  was  still  true  to  his,  determinations,  and 
flattered  himself  that  he  could  detect  some- 
thing more  of  a  Christian  spirit  in  his  cor- 
respondence   than   he   ever  before   observed, 


278  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

and  symptoms  of  the  change  which  both  he 
and  George  earnestly  prayed  for  daily.  But 
his  hopes  for  returning  health  proved  futile  ; 
his  cough  increased,  and  his  physician  told 
him  he  must  leave  California  or  die. 

He  had,  up  to  this  time,  remitted  Mr.  Wilder 
three  thousand  dollars,  leaving  a  balance  of 
about  two  thousand  dollars,  including  interest, 
and  it  was  some  time  before  Mr.  Wilder  heard 
a  word  from  him,  either  directly  or  indirectly. 

At  last,  one  day,  he  received  a  letter  from 
the  father  of  the  young  man,  dated  from  his 
residence  in  New  Hampshire,  announcing  the 
arrival  home  of  Charles  in  the  last  stages  of 
consumption,  and  informing  him  that  it  was 
his  son's  request  that  he  might  see  Mr.  Wilder 
before  it  was  too  late. 

True  to  his  nature,  the  very  next  morning 
Mr.  Wilder  started,  and  at  night  arrived  in 
the  village  at  the  old-fashioned  tavern,  the 
only  accommodation  the  little  town  offered. 
Inquiries  were  made,  and  the  services  of  a 
guide  obtained.  Mr.  Wilder  was  somewhat 
prepared  for  the  scene  that  awaited  him  ;  he 


REPENTANCE  AND  DEATH  OF  AN  ENEMY.  2/9 

had  anticipated  an  interview  of  anguish,  when 
he  contrasted  the  present  and  former  relations 
that  existed  between  them  ;  that  young  man 
once  so  promising,  beloved  and  trusted,  now 
disgraced,  and  only  returning  within  reach  of 
the  arm  of  justice  when  to  exercise  physical 
force  to  aid  that  justice,  would  be  inhuman. 
He  had  fancied  something  of  the  agony  which 
would  take  possession  of  the  young  man  when 
they  should  be  brought  face  to  face,  the  be- 
trayed and   the  betrayer.      But   he  was   not 
prepared  to  see  the  alteration  that  disease  had 
made  in  its  victim. 

He  found  him  terribly  emaciated,  and  with 
nearly  every  attempt  to  speak  a  coughing  fit 
would  interrupt,  which  left  him  so  weak  that 
he  would  be  obliged  to  lie  quiet  for  some  time 
before  he  was  able  to  articulate  audibly.  If 
Mr.  Wilder  had  ever  felt  any  inclination  to 
bring  the  criminal  to  the  punishment  his 
offence  would  have  received,  it  lost  its  exist- 
ence now.  He  had,  liowever,  never  borne  any 
ill  will  towards  him  ;  he  had  loved  him  too 
much  ever  tq  have  desired  to  harm  him,  and 


280  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

had  he  voluntarily  returned  in  health,  even  if 
he  had  never  received  a  dollar  of  restitution, 
he  would  have  lost  a  limb  rather  than  to  have 
hurt  a  hair  of  his  head. 

Mr.  Wilder  took  the  thin,  wasted  hand  of 
the  sick  man,  and  bade  him  be  quiet  for  a  few 
moments,  until  the  excitement  consequent 
upon  his  arrival  should  have  subsided  in  a 
degree ;  and  even  then,  when  he  had  become 
comparatively  calm,  he  was  not  permitted  to 
allude  to  the  crime  of  which  he  had  been 
guilty,  and  the  memory  of  which  weighed  so 
heavily  on  his  conscience.  Mr.  Wilder,  as 
best  he  could,  endeavored  to  cheer  him,  but 
there  was  nothing  to  warrant  such  a  course. 
The  inevitable  proximity  to  death,  with  guilt 
not  yet  fully  atoned  for,  the  anguish  into  which 
the  parents  and  rest  of  the  family  had  been 
thrown  by  his  sudden  and  unlooked-for  re- 
turn, and  by  the  presence  of  the  benefactor 
of  their  son,  who  had  been  grossly  wronged 
by  that  son,  all  aflordcd  but  little  ground  for 
a  hope  that  it  would  be  possible  to  enliven  the 
sufferer  or  his   broken-hearted   friends.     The 


REPENTANCE  AND  DEATH  OF  AN  ENEMY.  28 1 

only  allusion  to  the  subject  of  his  former  of- 
fence that  Mr.  Wilder  would  permit,  he  made 
himself,  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  family. 

"  Charles,  after  what  little  I  have  to  say,  I  do 
not  wish  the  old  subject  to  be  referred  to  again. 
"  I  have  received  your  letters,  all  breathing 
as  much  of  sorrow  and  penitence  as  any  one 
could  desire.     You  are  forgiven,  from  my  heart 
forgiven.     I  have  written  you  so  ;  I  now  tell 
you   so   in   the   presence   of  these  witnesses, 
your  kind,   loving,   sorrowing   friends.      If    I 
know  my  own  heart,  I  tell  you  in  all  sincerity, 
that  I  entertain  no  feehng  towards  you  but  that 
of  love  and  regard  ;  and  my  earnest  prayer  is 
that  you  may,  if  it  please  God,  be  spared  many 
years  to  prove  to  the  world,  what  I  implicitly 
believe,  that  your  repentance  is  heartfelt,  and 
that  you  may  be  brought  to  the  foot  of  the 
cross.     Now,  I  want  to  see  what  can  be  done 
for  your  body,  and  then  I  shall  want  (by  and 
by)  a  conversation  with  you,  Charles,  to  know 
how  it  is  with  your  soul." 

The   kindness   of  heart  and  Christian  for- 
giveness evinced  by  the  good  man  melted  the 


282  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

hearts  of  all,  and  silence,  broken  only  by  sobs, 
continued  for  several  moments. 

At  last,  turning  to  the  parents,  Mr.  Wilder 
inquired  if  any  physician  had  been  consulted 
since  the  sick  man  had  returned  ;  and  was  in- 
formed that  their  own  family  doctor  had  vis- 
ited him,  and  pronounced  his  case  a  hopeless 
one.  He  might  live  weeks,  and  he  was  liable 
to  die  soon  ;  but  that  nothing  could  be  done 
except  to  make  the  patient  as  comfortable  as 
possible. 

Finding  from  a  personal  observation  that 
no  medical  skill  was  able  to  effect  a  recovery, 
and  noticing  that  the  family  were  so  confident 
of  the  ability  of  their  own  physician  in  the 
matter,  Mr.  Wilder  made  no  effort  to  secure 
the  attendance  of  any  other ;  in  fact,  it  was 
apparent  to  every  one  that  the  sick  man  was 
near  his  end. 

One  by  one  the  members  of  the  family 
sought  their  respective  couches  for  the  night, 
and  at  last  Charles,  his  parents,  and  Mr. 
Wilder  were  left  alone. 

It  had  been  arranged  for  his  mother  to  sit 


REPENTANCE  AND  DEATH  OF  AN  ENEMY.  283 

up  with  him  that  night,  but  for  more  than  one 
reason,  Mr.  Wilder  desired  to  remain  with 
him,  and  so  expressed  himself.  The  old  lady 
strongly  objected,  but  upon  Mr.  Wilder  prom- 
ising to  call  her  if  occasion  should  require, 
and  as  there  was  no  particular  necessity  for 
wakefulness  on  the  part  of  any  ^e,  for  he 
was  taking  no  medicine  except  drops  for  hrs 
cough  once  in  a,  few  hours,  the  parents  yielded, 
and  retired,  leaving  the  two  alone,  giving  Mr. 
Wilder  an  opportunity  he  had  long  desired,  of 
private  conversation. 

Charles  Butler  had  enjoyed,  in  early  days> 
the  advantages  of  Christian  instruction,  both 
at  home  and  at  the  Sabbath  school  and 
church  ;  and  although  in  subsequent  life  he 
had  been  tempted  and  yielded,  and  although 
he  thought  he  was  happy  in  the  gay  and 
dissipated  company  in  which  he  spent  the 
hours  he  was  absent  from  the  store,  yet  in  his 
sober,'  calm  moments  conscience  was  at  work, 
and  his  sufferings  at, the  thought  of  home,  his 
pious  mother  and  her  instructions  were  in- 
tense, and  he  would  drink  deeper  of  the  cup 


284  THE   BOSTON    BOY. 

of  pleasure  to  drown  his  sorrow  ;  and  when 
he  was  led  on,  step  by  step,  till  he  committed 
his  first  error  in  appropriating  some  of  his 
employer's  funds,  even  then  he  stopped  and 
tried  to  retrace  his  steps,  but  found  it  too  late. 
And  one  crime  led  to  another,  until  detection 
and  disgrace  ended  the  scene.  But  after  all 
had  been  done,  and  he  found  himself  an  exile 
from  home,  compelled  to  remain  among  stran- 
gers, and  under  a  foreign  flag  to  insure  freedom, 
he  began  to  think  of  the  uniform  kindness 
of  the  man  to  whom  he  had  proved  so  treach- 
erous, and  to  see  that  nothing  but  religion 
would  have  prompted  him  in  the  discovery 
of  this  system  of  embezzlement,  to  have  ex- 
hibited such  Christian  love  and  forbearance. 
He  began  to  think  of  that  God  he  had  so 
long  forgotten  and  sinned  against ;  and  this 
line  of  meditation  continued  until  he  appealed 
to  Heaven  for  forgiveness,  not  only  for  the 
crime  for  which  he  was  an  alien,  but  for 
others,  many  and  serious,  of  which  none  but 
himself  and  his  God  were  cognizant ;  and 
he   trusted  he   had   been   forgiven.     He   had 


REPENTANCE  AND  DEATH  OF  AN  ENEMY.  285 

never  alluded  to  his  trust  in  a  Saviour  in  his 
letters,  because  he  disliked  to  write  anything 
which  under  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the 
case  would  appear  like  hypocrisy  ;  but  he  had 
tried  to  live  a  Christian  life  ever  since  his  first 
letter  informed  Mr.  Wilder  of  his  contrition. 

That  Mr.  Wilder  was  rejoiced   at   the   in- 
formation he  received  that  night,  is  not  sur- 
prising ;  and  he  arose  from  his  chair  and  knelt 
at   the   bedside,   and    thanked    God    for    the 
change — for  the  state  of  mind  in  which  he 
found  the  young  man  ;  and  prayed  that,  if  it 
could   please    God,   the    health    of    the    suf- 
ferer might  be  restored ;  but  if  not,  that  when 
the  hour   should   come   to   exchange  worlds, 
the    grace   which   was    now    shed   abroad   in 
his  heart,  might  be  bestowed  yet  more  abun- 
dantly ;  that  he  might  feel  fully  prepared,  and 
not  only  prepared,  but  willing  and  anxious  to 
"  depart  and  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better." 
The   parents   and   friends   of  Charles    had 
known  of  the  moral  change  which  had  taken 
place  in  him  during  his  stay  in  Canada,  but 
they  had  not  been  informed  that  he  cherished 


286  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

a  hope  that  he  had  been  born  again ;  and  the 
excitement  attending  his  recent  return,  and 
the  weakness  of  his  hope,  accompanied  by  his 
modesty  on  this  subject,  which  in  itself  was 
a  very  strong  indication  of  the  genuineness 
of  the  change  (for  modesty  had  been  no 
marked  attribute  of  his  heretofore),  had  pre- 
sented no  favorable  opportunity  for  a  full 
statement  of  the  working  of  his  heart  until 
this  night. 

It  was  a  delightful  report  Mr.  Wilder  had 
to  make  to  them  in  the  morning,  and  joy  at 
the  knowledge  of  it  seemed  for  a  moment  to 
obscure  the  terrible  fact  that  his  end  was  fast 
approaching. 

At  their  request,  and  the  urgent  solicitation 
of  Charles  himself,  who  begged  him  to  remain 
with  him  till  the  last,  Mr.  Wilder  consented 
to  remain  a  few  days  in  their  midst ;  and  he 
returned  to  the  hotel  to  make  the  necessary 
arrangements  for  his  stay,  and  to  notify,  by 
mail,  his  family  and  George  of  the  glorious 
news  he  had  just  heard,  and  which  had  made 
his  sleepless  night  so  delightful. 


REPENTANCE  AND  DEATH  OF  AN  ENEMY.  28/ 

He  was  not  called  upon  to  wait  long,  for 
Charles  continued  to  grow  feebler  and  feebler 
daily,  and  it  was  a  consolation  to  observe, 
as  his  strength  failed,  and  his  hold  on  earth 
grew  less  and  less  tenacious,  that  his  faith  in 
God  increased,  and  he  took  a  firmer  and 
firmer  hold  on  heaven. 

He  wasted  away,  unable  to  converse  much 
(although  he  retained  his  consciousness  to  the 
very  last),  and  just  a  week  from  the  day  Mr. 
Wilder  came  to  see  him,  his  summons  came, 
and  the  ransomed  spirit  of  Charles  Butler  was 
wafted  to  the  presence  of  its  Maker,  leaving 
no  doubt  on  the  minds  of  all  who  were  with 
him  in  his  last  moments  that  God  had  taken 
the  penitent  sufferer  home. 

How  solacing  to  those  left  to  mourn  was 
the  reflection  which  now  supported  them  in 
this  bitter  hour,  that  his  crimes  had  all  been 
washed  away  by  a  Saviour's  blood,  and  that 
of  him  it  might  be  said  that  he  had  joined 
that  glad  throng  who  had  come  "  out  of  great 
tribulation,  and  had  washed  their  robes,  and 
made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb !  " 


CHAPTER    XX. 


CONCLUSION. 


ENRY  CLEMENT  (whom  we  have 
quite  neglected  in  our  interest  in 
his  old  friends,  George  Hutchins 
and  Robert  Ashley),  after  his  sister's  marriage, 
and  the  removal  of  the  family  to  the  country, 
having  lost  his  home,  was  obliged  to  seek  out 
for  himself  a  new  residence.  This  he  found  no 
easy  matter,  for  he  had  always  been  somewhat 
fastidious  in  his  tastes  ;  and  now  he  was  in  a 
lucrative  business,  he  had  the  means  at  his 
disposal  to  gratify  his  desires. 

One  day,  while  in  quest  of  a  boarding-place, 

he   happened   to  be   passing  through  F ■ 

Street,  and  noticed  the  familiar  house  of  Mrs. 
Rice.     It  had  been  a  long  time  since  he  had 

288 


CONCLUSION.  289 

seen  or  heard  anything  of  her,  or  any  of  her 
family,  and  he  concluded  to  make  a  call. 

Mrs.  Rice  had  kept  a  boarding-house  ever 
since  the  death  of  her  husband,  many  years 
l?efore,  and  had  by  economy  been  able,  using 
her  favorite  expression,  to  "  lay  up  something 
for  a  rainy  day,"  and,  having  worked  hard 
during  all  her  best  days,  Henry  was  not  sur- 
prised when  she  told  him  that  she  had  saved 
money  enough  to  give  up  keeping  boarders, 
and  was  about  to  move  into  a  smaller  house, 
where  she  could  have  more  rest.  Her  son 
Joseph,  whom  we  once  knew  slightly,  and  who, 
together  with  his  mother,  was  led  to  seek  the 
Saviour  through  the  instrumentality  of  Robert, 
was  now  the  captain  of  a  fine  brig.  He  was 
a  Christian  man,  an  honor  to  his  religious  pro- 
fession, and  his  ship  a  floating  Bethel.  A  good 
man,  a  captain,  who  belonged  to  the  same 
Bethel  church,  had  taken  an  interest  in  him, 
and  under  his  protection  and  tuition  Joseph 
had  been  able  to  fit  himself  to  be  an  officer, 
had  been  three  or  four  voyages  as-  mate,  and 
was  now  on  kis  second  trip  as  master  in  the 
West  India  trade.  19 


290  THE   BOSTON   BOY. 

Mrs.  Rice  was  hurrying  to  furnish  her  new 
house  for  immediate  occupancy  for  the  recep- 
tion of  Joseph,  who  would,  on  his  return  from 
sea,  bring  to  it  a  wife. 

Henry  made  inquiries  about  the  young  men 
who  were'  boarders  when  he  was  there,  and 
received  the  dehghtful  intelligence  that  nearly 
all  of  them  had  given  good  evidence  of  a 
change  of  heart ;  and  it  was  all  attributed  to 
George's  influence,  the  alteration  they  had 
observed  in  Robert,  and  the  Christian  ex- 
ample that  had  been  set  by  both  these  young 
men. 

Henry  found  it  no  easy  task  to  obtain  a 
boarding-place  to  his  mind  ;  and  one  evening, 
while  making  a  call  on  the  Wilders,  for  he  was 
a  constant  visitor  there,  he  mentioned  that 
he  was  very  lonely  now  all  his  friends  had 
moved  away  from  the  city,  and  that  he  disliked 
extremely  the  hotel  life  he  was  now  enduring, 
the  bustle  and  excitement  being  far  from  con- 
genial to  his  disposition.  Mrs.  Wilder  ob- 
served this,  and  remarked  to  her  husband, 
"  Would  it  not  be  pleasant  for  us  all  to  have 


CONCLUSION.  291 

Henry  with  us  ? "  Her  husband  immediately 
conceded  that  it  would  ;  while  Henry,  if  he 
had  entertained  any  doubts  of  the  project  be- 
ing an  agreeable  one,  had  them  dispelled  in  the 
glance  of  approval  bestowed  on  him  by  Ella, 
who  looked  up  from  her  crotchet  work  just 
long  enough,  and  with  just  expression  enough 
to  prompt  him  to  say  at  once,  — 

"  I  should  like  that  of  all  things  else.  I 
cannot  endure  being  among  strangers  so 
much ;  and  at  a  public  house  the  society  is 
not  agreeable  to  me." 

The  change  was  at  once  made ;  but  it  led 
to  another  soon,  for  the  young  people  before 
many  months,  concluded,  with  their  parents' 
consent  and  approval,  to  set  up  housekeeping 
on  their  own  account,  so  in  losing  a  boarder,  a 
son-in-law  was  gained. 

The  firm  of  Hutchins,  Clement  &  Co.  is 
still  in  existence,  engaged  in  a  large  and  very 
profitable  business,  to  which  they  devote  their 
time  and  apply  their  talents,  not  to  make 
money  to  hoard  it,  but  that  with  it  they  may 
do  good.     Strictly  honest  in  all  their  transac? 


292  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

tions,  they  have  won  the  respect  and  esteem 
of  all  with  whom  they  are  in  any  way  con- 
nected, while  no  one,  be  he  friend  or  foe  to 
religion,  fails  to  observe  that  there  is  some- 
thing more  than  policy  aiding  them  in  their 
worldly  affairs,  and  it  is  a  common  expression 
to  hear  made  of  them,  that  "  their  word  is  as 
good  as  their  bond." 

They  are  both  earnest  laborers  in  the  church 
of  God  ;  and  George  has  been,  for  some  years, 
the  superintendent  of  the  Sabbath  school  coli- 
nected  with  the  church  of  which  he  and  his 
family  are  members,  in  the  flourishing  village 
near  Boston,  where  we  saw  them  so  pleasantly 
settled  a  few  years  since. 

Young  Mrs.  Hutchins  accompanies  her 
husband  in  his  frequent  errands  of  mercy, 
and  is  as  much  interested  in  private  charities, 
and  the  more  public  benevolences  of  the  day, 
as  was  George's  mother  in  her  palniy  days, 
and  acts  in  her  stead  now  in  dispensing  with  a 
liberal  hand  those  gifts  which  Mother  Hutch- 
ins's  advanced  age  compels  her  to  delegate 
another  to  do  ;  while  the  old  lady,  full  of  years, 


CONCLUSION.  293 

but  still  in  good  general  health,  rarely  leaves 
home,  but  seems  to  be  living  her  early  mater- 
nal days  over  again,  as  she  aids  in  the  educa- 
tion of  her  little  grandson,  Georgie  Barrett 
Hutchins,  whom  she  declares  "  the  image  of 
his  father."  Long  may  the  evening  of  her 
well-spent  life  be  prolonged,  that  she  may  con- 
tinue to  enjoy  the  happiness  she  so  well  de- 
serves. 

Rev.  Robert  Ashley  is  an  efficient  and  suc- 
cessful minister  of  God ;  and  although  there 
were  many  at  first  in  his  society  who  con- 
sidered him  too  young  and  inexperienced  to 
assume  charge  of  a  church  so  long  blessed 
with  the  counsels  of  a  more  mature  mind,  he 
enjoys  now,  to  a  remarkable  degree,  the  confi- 
dence and  devotion  of  his  people. 

His  labors  have  beefi  blessed  by  frequent 
revivals  of  God's  grace,  those  unmistakable 
indications  of  divine  favor,  and  his  whole 
heart  is  in  his  work.  He  is  as  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  conversion  of  the  sailor  as  ever, 
and  his  voice  is  often  heard  in  presenting 
their  claims,  both  in  his  own  pulpit  and  at  his 


294  THE  BOSTON  BOY. 

old  religious  home  at  the  Bethel,  where  he  is 
always  welcome,  and  where  there  are  many 
who  date  their  conviction,  and  subsequent 
conversion,  to  something  he  has  said  or  done. 

The  old  Clement  house  (now  the  parson- 
age), is  looking  finely,  having  been  improved 
and  put  in  complete  repair,  and  the  minister 
and  his  wife  have  with  them  still,  Mrs.  Clement 
and  Louise,  all  enjoying  good  health,  and  what 
is  better  than  everything  else,  all  walking  close 
with  God. 

The  parsonage  is  the  frequent  resort  of  the 
young  people  of  the  society,  with  whom  their 
pastor  is  deservedly  popular,  and  who  is  deeply 
interested  in  everything  appertaining  to  their 
moral  and  mental  improvement,  at  the  same 
time  never  forgetting  the  all-important  subject 
of  the  welfare  of  their  souls. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barrett  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Wilder  are  still  living  in  the  enjoyment  of  all 
the  blessings  and  happiness  so  sure  to  follow 
lives  so  well  spent.  Time  has  dealt  gently 
with  them,  and  they  are  as  active  and  ener- 
getic in  the  fulfilment  of  duty,  as  ardent  sym- 


CONCLUSION.  295 

pathizers  with,  and  as  liberal  patrons  of,  every 
effort  to  relieve  poverty  and  distress  as  ever ; 
and  many  a  poor  widow  and  orphan  have  rea- 
son to  thank  God  for  their  acquaintance ; 
while  in  the  record  above  are  placed  to  their 
credit  many  a  good  deed,  which  no  tongue  on 
earth  lives  to  proclaim,  or  pencil  has  ever 
traced. 

Vice  has  its  allurements  and  remorseful  re- 
sults to-day,  as  well  as  during  the  lifetime  of 
Charles  Butler ;  and  virtue  its  reward  in  the 
inward  peace  it  always  brings,  even  if  it  be 
not  signally  compensated,  as  it  was  in  the 
cases  of  George  Hutchins  and  Henry  Clem- 
ent ;  while  the  reformation  of  Robert  Ashley, 
who  was  once  so  unpromising,  but  now  so 
worthy  a  Christian,  is  an  exhibition  of  what 
religion  will  do  for  all  who  will  accept  the  free 
terms  on  which  it  is  granted. 

That  each  and  every  one  of  my  readers  may 
take  example  by  whatever  of  good  has  been 
seen  in  any  of  the  characters  to  whom  we  now 
say  farewell,  and  endeavor  to  emulate  their 
virtues,  is  the  hearfelt  desire  of  the  Author. 


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